


Rise in Perfect Light

by Sol1056



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Canon Compliant, Canon compliant through S3, M/M, Mid-Canon, On Hiatus, Politics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-15
Updated: 2017-10-22
Packaged: 2018-12-29 23:40:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 24,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12095964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sol1056/pseuds/Sol1056
Summary: When the team discovers an intruder with Shiro's face, the questions pile up, as the team begins to fall apart.Humans had no technology for embedding foreign objects in human flesh, but the Galra did. It was beyond human understanding to record a person's thoughts, experiences, emotions, through that foreign object, but Ulaz had stored information in Shiro's arm for almost a year. Who was to say that it couldn't capture everything else, including the entirety of his conscious mind? He still recalled so little of his year in Galra captivity. Was that another sign of the Galra meddling with his memory, or simply a gap in the process of creating him? Were there other years he couldn't remember? If he was the clone, how would he know?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Divergent from canon as of the end of S3. May reference backstories established in 'Slip the Surly Bonds' and 'The Agreement', but only in passing.

Shiro exhaled as the seat beneath him became solid, and he let his hands fall from the side-sticks. Black was somnolent; the team must've towed him back while he was out. He carefully pried the helmet off, and that movement alone exhausted him. The helmet hit the floor with a distant clatter.

He tried to stand, fell to his knees, gritted his teeth, and pulled himself back up again. The armor felt like iron bands on his body, weight and substance too great; the minimal undersuit was drenched in sweat. He shivered, forcing his numbing fingers to unlatch the forearm guards.

Every sensation was too much. Cold air prickled the back of his neck; his fingernails scrabbled at the armor until he could unlatch the chest-piece, and the clatter of armor hitting the deck stabbed at his ears. Shiro gasped, hands to his head, until the echoes faded.

Shiro almost laughed at himself, but his lungs ached with the movement. He focused instead on undoing the shin guards, then prying the boots off. Toes free to wriggle in the chilly cockpit, he tried to stand, and fell again.

Clearly it had been a mistake to throw himself free of that final blast, in the battle. A lightning strike's worth of power, and he'd reached out for Black. He'd passed through the amber of her gaze, then into a fathomless velvet embedded with stars. For long moments he'd gazed upon the vastness, insignificant and awed at the glimpse of infinity.

He was alone, yet incomplete, and he stretched out, seeking Black. And after too long, felt her touch, and caught hold. He'd slid through her warmth back to where he belonged.

Shiro carefully gathered the armor, and shoved it into the bulkhead compartment. He'd retrieve it later, once he'd recovered his breath, but no reason to leave Black so messy. His thudding heartbeat marked the passage of time as he drew deep breaths, fighting off another short laugh. Next time he'd be more careful about how he'd use Black's power, that was for certain.

Some measure of stretch regained, he crawled across the deck to the doors. They slid open but he remained kneeling, gathering his strength to climb to his feet. He lurched forward to the bulkhead, and clung to it as guide down the long steps as Black lowered her head to let him out. His legs gave way and he slid the last two steps unceremoniously to the hangar's floor.

Where was everyone? Perhaps he should've called for them, rather than remove his helmet, but he couldn't seem to use his voice. At some point, someone must come. No one did, and perhaps that meant his sense of time was as mangled as his sense of touch, smell, sound.

Aches were making themselves known, some deeper than others. No one place in particular, simply the bone-deep exhaustion of a fight carried too long. He got one foot under him, then the other, and shoved himself upwards. Sweat dripped in his eyes, obscuring his vision. He stumbled forward, an arm around his stomach, where the hurt lay deepest.

One step, another, another, another. He forced himself upright, letting his bare feet slide across the metal. Its chill seeped up his ankles, to his calves, to his thighs, and nestled in his belly. Another step, another, another. The hangar's distance stretched on forever.

Instinct and memory guided him more than sight or sound; he turned a corner, keeping a shoulder to the wall. Touch grounded him, forced away that memory of vast pinpricked darkness in every direction. He hadn't realized he'd closed his eyes until he ran into a castle bulkhead. Somehow he'd reached the ninth level, which meant a conveyor couldn't be that far. He edged around the bulkhead standing proud of the corridor and paused.

The castle's air systems whistled across his damp skin and reverberated in his ears. That sound had changed, though, to tones he should recognize. Sounds that should have meaning. Carefully Shiro raised his hand, curious, touched his ears. Was that the feeling of wetness, or were his fingertips too dull? He had to blink several times before his eyes worked in the hall's blue glow. Something dark covered his fingers, dripping down his palms.

He'd ruptured his eardrums. He wiped his fingers across his stomach, idly puzzled. Distant memories of naval friends meandered through his mind, stories of the risk of resurfacing too fast, the immense pain in the ears. Or perhaps Shiro's ears didn't hurt only because everything else hurt far more. He took another step, another breath, another agonizing step.

The light flared, dipped, returned. He blinked a few more times, catching only fuzzy movement. His team, dark indistinct shapes, moving too fast for him to follow. They spoke, inarticulate sounds battering at Shiro's hearing. He tried to speak, could make no sound but a soft exhalation.

Someone came closer, reached for him. A flash of red. Shiro put out his hand. He leaned too far from the wall supporting him, lost his balance, and fell to his knees. He choked on the embarrassed humor, and pushed himself upright.

One figure stepped forward from the rest, resolving from a blur of color, shape, swirling sound. Not bulky enough to be Hunk, nor slender enough to be Coran, but as tall as either. Bewildered, Shiro looked up, the figure's black clothes barely separated from the darkening blue-lit hall. Kollivan, then, or Antok. Strange allies, but probably the best, since Shiro wasn't sure he could make it to the pod by himself. He wasn't even sure how he'd managed this far.

The figure knelt down, a voice buffeting Shiro as though the soundwaves could brush his skin. Shiro looked up, squinting against the light haloing the person's face.

Gradually the details resolved, holding long enough for Shiro to comprehend. Behind the dark figure: Allura, in armor, eyes wide in stark fear. Next to her, that was Hunk, his massive gun trained on Shiro. Pidge, almost back-to-back with Lance, both armed, both silent. Keith, hands out as if surrendering, but unmoving. And directly before Shiro, just out of arm's reach, a shape both familiar and strange, bathed in a shaft of blue light.

His own face.


	2. Chapter 2

Pidge flinched back a half-step when the Shiro-duplicate's eyes rolled back in his head, and the figure slumped sideways. Lance muttered something under his breath, and Keith made the strangest sound in the back of his throat, quickly buried.

"Uh, guys?" Hunk let his bayard revert. "That, uh, second Shiro? Isn't looking too good. If we're going to get him to a pod—"

"He's a clone," Shiro said. "I thought it was just my brain playing tricks on me, but when I escaped, I saw some of the Galra clustered around a body that looked like this."

"So that's why the Castle didn't think it's an intruder," Pidge said, letting her own bayard revert. The clone was out cold, anyway. "This one is a biological duplicate."

"Hair's shorter on the sides." Lance didn't lower his gun. "But otherwise exactly the same."

Keith looked unamused. "That would be the meaning of clone."

"Whatever."

"We should put him out the airlock," Shiro said.

"What?" Keith jolted.

"He's a Galra drone." Shiro was implacable. "Letting him stay is a danger to all of us."  

Pidge considered the possibilities, and darted forward just as Shiro came to his feet. "Wait. Remember what you said, Hunk, about a direct link to the brain?"

Hunk had scooted around Allura to kneel down beside the clone. He frowned at the blood drying on the clone's bodysuit, and pressed two fingers to the clone's neck.

"We could put him in those pods on the fifth level," Pidge explained. "We could use that link against the Galra. Work backwards, and see what we could learn."

"I am not having Galra technology corrupt the castle's crystal a second time," Allura replied.

"I can write a buffer that'll prevent the connection." It'd be pretty easy, now that Pidge had better command of the castle's intricate programming. "It'll isolate him from the castle's systems."

"Having it here on the ship, in any manner, is too much of a risk." Shiro frowned down at the clone. He wore a closed-off expression that Pidge had eventually accepted was part of Shiro, thanks to whatever hell he'd gone through to get back to them.

"Guys, whatever we do, we need to do it fast." Hunk bent down, got his shoulder in the clone's gut, braced himself, and came upright with the clone slung over his shoulder. "Clone or not, it's still got a heartbeat. I'm not letting it die."

Allura considered that. "Fine. Put him in a healing pod. And Pidge, if the castle shows even the _tiniest_ hint of corruption, I'll airlock that thing, myself."  

  
  
  


Pidge sat in the kitchen, idly writing a script to make the castle's lighting plunge Lance's vicinity into full darkness whenever he got too annoying. Hunk chopped some purple fruits he'd picked up on the last planet. His knife moved too fast for her eye to track, and she wasn't interested in finding out whether the healing pods would reattach fingers. It was safer not to watch.

For two days, the team had tiptoed around the question of the clone. Kolivan was due for a meeting soon, and there were reports coming in from allies across the quadrant. Hunk and Allura were planning joint missions, while Keith seemed to have no interest in flying Black any more than he had to. He'd been like that ever since Shiro had returned.

Her system beeped. An alert on one of her background scripts. Pidge opened the screen, reviewing the data.

"What is it?" Hunk paused in stirring the chopped fruit into the mix he insisted would be something called a flaugnarde. "Something wrong?"

"Not sure." Pidge called up the data she'd isolated from the one time Shiro had been in a healing pod. Most of the stats were the same, and some felt too much the same, but she couldn't put a finger on it. "Clones aren't really my area of expertise. Too much biology, not enough technology. Well, I guess there's technology if you count how they're made, with those test tubes or whatever, but once they're grown, they're pure biology."

"Except for that arm," Hunk pointed out.

"If Shiro was cloned when he had no arm, would the clone not have an arm?" Pidge scrolled through the two datasets.

The alert beeped again. The clone's brainwave patterns had settled again, down into what she figured was a deep, dreamless sleep. The comparison dataset showed Shiro had been in an active dreamstate for only the last ten minutes or so before waking.

"I think if you're born with two arms, your DNA includes two arms." Hunk spooned the filling into a square pie shell. "Unless it was a birth defect. Or mutation. I'm not sure if that's a DNA thing. It's not my thing, at least."

"Shiro was born with two arms," Pidge said.

"Then his clone would have two arms."

"Which means—" They'd cloned Shiro and promptly cut off his arm again. The thought made Pidge sick to her stomach, and the cloying sweetness of the alien fruit didn't help. She hopped down from the counter. "I'm going to check on the pod. Just to make sure."

There was no real reason to check. She just couldn't help being drawn to it. Ever since they'd defeated Zarkon, too many things had stopped making sense. Losing Shiro, and getting him back only to find out Black had sent him back to the Galra. Discovering Zarkon had a son, so their fight wasn't over but had instead escalated. And despite the Blade's assistance, it felt like an endless war of attrition. Some planets they freed, the Galra took back. Other planets, Lotor took. And other planets remained free but helpless, insisting that Voltron do a regular fly-by just to reassure the planet. The problem was that one machine couldn't be in five places at once.

Unless, of course, it was the five lions, but no one seemed to consider any individual lion even a tenth as important as Voltron itself. Pidge had freed six planets by herself, and every single time the planet's leaders had said their thanks and in the next breath complained.

The lights were low in the healing pod chamber, and Pidge stood for a long moment before the single pod, illuminated from within. Shiro—the clone—hung there, suspended, still in the white suit they'd found him in, neckline soaked with dried blood, and more smeared across his ribs. Was biology enough to make someone a person, or was there something more, some essence that combined one's experiences, relationships, conflicts, resolutions?

Philosophy had never been Pidge's strong suit. Logic was more her forte. She reviewed the tiny details, critically, trying to catalog them. The clone's shoulders were broad, with a gentle slope, while Shiro's shoulders were almost square. The clone's arms were strong, well-defined. Too muscular? The real Shiro's arms weren't nearly that cut, not that Pidge had made a habit of looking. But she'd hugged Shiro, once. She'd know the difference. She hoped.

At some point since she'd last checked on the clone, its expression had changed. At first blank and strangely lifeless, it now wore a tiny smile. According to the castle's monitoring systems, the clone was in deep sleep, so she had to hope that wasn't a feedback loop due to the clone successfully relaying information to the Galra. Could one anthropomorphize a clone? If it was sending messages, it should look smug. Not a small, relieved smile.

Not that Shiro had smiled much since he'd come back. He didn't joke all that much, anymore, either. Everyone knew he'd been through something rough, and everyone knew that if anyone knew the details, it'd be Keith, but no one was willing to ask. It seemed like something best left as another layer of scar tissue. Sometimes Pidge missed Shiro's dorky humor, and she especially missed the way he used to shut Lance down when Lance got too obnoxious. Now Shiro just ignored anything that wasn't related to the mission, it felt like.

Not that even Lance flirted all that much, anymore. Pidge wasn't sure, but she suspected as much as Lance had wanted to fly Black, he'd wanted to keep Blue, even more. Guilty at her own claims, she'd apologized to Green on one of their solo trips. She'd been rewarded with a purr, and the sensation that Green had known Pidge wasn't serious.

What would a clone dream about, anyway? Why would it wear such a contented expression?

Pidge sighed, stepping to stand at the pod. Tentative, unable to fight the superstitious sensation—even as her brain rattled through all the ways that such a reaction wasn't logical—she put her hand against the peculiar transparent barrier. It felt cool, where she expected human warmth. The clone didn't move, didn't wake, didn't even twitch.

She dropped her hand and went to her new spot, opposite the clone's pod. Cross-legged, with her back to the wall, tucked into a spot where no one would notice her, she could write scripts, muck around in the castle's data and systems, and be left alone. At least until Hunk or Lance came to find her, which they seemed to be able to do, to an uncanny degree.   

Eventually she tired of playing, and let the laptop sleep, but she didn't want to move. Soft footfalls warned her of someone's approach. Not Lance, who walked with a quick step, nor Hunk, whose tread was steady. Allura or Keith, then. Coran had set up the pod for the clone, studied it for a moment, and left. He hadn't returned, to Pidge's knowledge.

Shiro himself had never even come to see. She couldn't blame him. It had to be bizarre, and upsetting, to discover what the Galra had done. Not just taken a year from him, but his arm, and more. Taken from Keith, too, though that was another thing Pidge did her best not to consider too carefully. If Shiro joked less, and rarely smiled, the same was true for Keith, now. Just as everyone had learned to step carefully around the question of Shiro's absence, they'd learned to step even more carefully when the two argued.

Keith moved into the glow of the healing pod, staring up at the clone. Pidge withdrew deeper into the shadow, feeling like an intruder. Keith's arms were crossed, and he stood with one hip cocked. If he'd ever touched the pod as Pidge had, he'd yet to do it when she was around. He simply came, stared for what seemed like far too long to simply be checking, and then left just as silently.

But this time, a second step, and Allura joined him.

"It's horrible," she said, quietly. "That they would do this."

"It makes no sense." Keith sounded very far away. "Why do this, as if we wouldn't notice immediately?"

"There must be some reason." Allura moved to stand alongside Keith, pulling up the pod's readouts. "Another five days, at least."

"It wasn't enough to send a clone, they had to send one that's defective."

"Not exactly." Allura scrolled through a readout. "There's no one thing wrong. More like a million small things. Minuscule, even microscopic tears, fractures, lacerations…"

Oh, medical data. Pidge wanted to slap herself in the forehead. She hadn't even thought to look into that.

"Why now?"

"I don't know." Allura closed the readout and stepped back. "Perhaps it was the soonest they could manage. After all, there were several months we couldn't form Voltron, without the Black lion."

"But the Galra had Shiro!" Keith's tone turned harsh. "Why release a clone, once they knew the real one had escaped?"

"I don't _know_ , Keith. But once we transfer the clone to a containment pod, we should find out." Allura waited a moment, but Keith said nothing, and Allura turned and left.

Pidge slid back into the dark corner, turning away so she didn't see Keith staring up at the sleeping face of someone who was not his friend.

  
  
  


Hunk tucked the last piece into place and tightened the screws. The long cord for the arm-attachment snaked around his feet and over to Pidge's laptop.

"I sure hope this works," he said, and guided the attachment to the ports on the clone's arm. They'd transported the clone to the containment unit, using a nifty floating carrier pod that Hunk couldn't wait to dismantle and figure out.

Coran stood by the control panel, ready to snap the containment unit shut the instant Hunk had the attachment in place. The clone hadn't moved. It floated, face lowered, shoulders relaxed, breathing minimal but steady.

"Deep sleep," Pidge reported. "Should we wake him up?"

"Not yet." Hunk listened for the soft click, and the tiny light went on. "Alright, it's in, and reading." He let the cord hang down to the pod's base, and Coran shifted the hole downwards until it was only big enough for the cord. "That gonna do it?"

"It should," Coran said. "If he's small enough to get through that, we've got bigger problems."

Hunk wanted to laugh at the joke, but the moment felt too tense. Allura and Shiro stood behind him, and he could feel their gazes like lasers boring into his back. He patted the containment surface, hoped everyone thought he was just checking, and stepped back.

Lance had knelt behind Pidge, watching her laptop screen over her shoulder. Keith leaned against the wall, as though trying to keep the greatest distance possible between himself and the clone. Coran tapped the panel a few times, and a small plume of blue-green dropped into the memory unit, slowly dispersing.

"So, are we stuck waiting again?" Hunk hoped not. He had an idea for a stew he really wanted to try, as long as they had a few vargas to kill before Kolivan arrived.

"You told me you'd asked Sendak questions," Allura said, to Shiro. "How long did it take before he answered?"

Shiro frowned, studying the clone, then addressed it. "Why are you here?"

The clone didn't move. The cord shifted slightly in the containment unit, in time with the clone's deep, even breaths. Hunk nearly jumped out of his skin to hear Shiro's voice, coming from everywhere and nowhere.

_Keith._

A soft sound from behind, like a broken-off sob. Hunk steeled himself and refused to turn around and look.

"Who sent you?"

_The black lion._

Hunk glanced around. Shiro's scowl had deepened. Allura looked confused, while Coran tapped on the control panel, and another plume of blue-green entered the unit. Lance leaned close to Pidge, as they both stared at something on the screen. Hunk sidled sideways, scooting around behind Allura and Shiro to join the two at the laptop.

Shiro continued asked questions. What were the Galra planning, where was the clone created, what orders did it have, how had it found the castle, how had it gotten on board, what were its intentions… The clone didn't answer most, and what little it did say sounded less and less certain as the questioning wore on.  

"Getting anything from his arm, Pidge?" Hunk tried to whisper. His voice echoed in the large hall.

"Sort of." Pidge bent in, peering at the readout. "It looks like it registered locations, durations, and Shiro's own words."

"Why would a clone have history from before it existed?"

"Unless…" Pidge studied the lines scrolling past. "They downloaded Shiro's memories from when they had him, and uploaded those into the clone." She jumped, suddenly, and Lance gave her a curious look. "Look, here—"  

Rows scrolled by, dates with no location, no additional text.

"What, did it break?" Lance scrubbed at his head. "Hunk?"

"It's empty." Pidge twisted to give Lance and Hunk a baffled look. "Months, with nothing to record. There's nothing there."

Behind them, Shiro repeated his questions, but the clone had stopped answering. Hunk straightened up, staring at the creature in the containment pod. It was a living entity. It had a heartbeat, and it could bleed. Its memories were false, but weren't memories a big part of emotion? How must it feel, to realize that one's existence was only a copy, and any purpose was not one's own?

Hunk had no interest in launching a living, breathing creature into space, but neither did he want any more of Keith's—or Shiro's—strange tensions and silences, since the clone had arrived.

The castle warning chimed, and Coran checked the panel. "Kolivan's here."

Allura stepped back. "Pidge, set up monitors, and double-check to make sure it's isolated from the systems."

"Roger that," Pidge said, typing in rapid commands.

"We'll try again in a bit," Allura said. "Shiro?"

"What? Yes. Of course." Shiro gave the clone a last look, and strode off.

Hunk waited, as Lance stood, stretched, and gave Pidge a hand up. Keith pushed off from the wall with a last glance at the clone, then followed Shiro, head down. Coran closed up the control panel and stepped away, pausing to look back at Hunk.

"Are you coming? I thought you had a meal planned," he said.

"I did. It's in the warming oven," Hunk replied, absently. "I just… don't think it's right to leave it alone, down here. I think someone should stay with it."

"Oh, good point. Wouldn't want a repeat of Sendak." Coran straightened his collar. "I can come down and relieve you, when the meeting starts."

"Thanks, Coran."

Hunk waited until Coran's footsteps had faded into the distance, and the containment hall's great doors had slid shut. Then he stepped up to the pod's surface, studying the downturned face.

"What are the Galra up to," he murmured to himself. "Maybe it's another of Lotor's tricks…"

 _Who's Lotor?_  

Shiro's voice, echoing around him, and Hunk answered automatically. "Zarkon's son."

_Zarkon has a son?_

Hunk pulled back, suspicious. Wouldn't the clone know that? But then again, Shiro hadn't known that, anymore than the rest of them had. Maybe Lotor wasn't behind it, and it was someone else in Zarkon's empire that had cooked up the idea of a clone. The empire was huge enough that it might have hidden places where things happened no one else knew about. There had been that secret station space base, after all.

Almost a year, with nothing recorded. No location, no physical sensation, no words.

"I know it's got to be hard," Hunk whispered. "Thinking you know who you are, and finding out you're not. Don't worry. You might not be Shiro, but you can be your own person."

The only answer was a soft, distant sigh. It made shivers go down Hunk's spine.

He pulled back, studying the still figure. If the Galra were good enough to capture, download, and upload Shiro's memories, maybe they'd thought to erase any record of their own activities. But to just leave a year's worth of emptiness was almost as much of a red flag, as far as Hunk was concerned.

"Where were you, all this time?"

_Alone._


	3. Chapter 3

Keith waited behind Allura and Shiro as the shuttle docked, Shiro's words still echoing in his ears. No need to tell the Blades about the clone, at this point. Once they knew more—if ever—they'd disclose. Keith wanted to think about anything but hearing Shiro's voice call his name in a tone he'd used only once, since his return. That simple, almost expectant tone, calling on Keith, prompting him to respond, with a certainty that Keith would be there.

He buried his suspicion of why the Galra bothered cloning a living person. It was better not to think about the fact that their enemies knew so much that they'd chosen the one person Keith could never kill. Clone or no clone.

Kolivan was the first one out, mask dissolving as he bent a knee to Allura in greeting. Two more Galra followed, and as always Keith had to study them for a moment before he could put names—or at least aliases—to each. The one that towered over Kolivan, broad-shouldered and narrow-hipped, was Obaz. The lean, rangey one—shorter than Kolivan, but a head taller than Shiro—was Nizak.

Lance came up to stand beside Keith. "Have you seen Hunk?"

"Wasn't he behind us?"

"I thought—oh, there he is." Lance fell back to walk alongside Hunk.

Keith followed the Blades and Allura down the corridor, and into the large meeting room they'd begun using as strategy headquarters. Shiro led the way, turning as he entered to give Keith a look. _You're the leader now,_ it said.

Allura brought up the system map, and the group ranged themselves around it. Kollivan's aides stood back. Keith envied them. He'd been much happier when he'd stood at Shiro's elbow, rather than pushed out front. He had no head for strategy. He'd never contributed anything to the discussions.

Pidge, Hunk, and Lance filed in last, ranging around the room in the empty spaces between them. Lance looked bored, as he always did. Pidge was preoccupied. Probably checking off in her head all the places she'd already looked for her brother. She tended to be the first to leap at particular assignments, and it had taken Keith awhile to piece together that she had some kind of a pattern in her head, criss-crossing the quadrants.

Uncharacteristically, Hunk was subdued. Keith wondered if this meant he was supposed to pull Hunk aside later, and ask. Shiro had always done that, for each of them. Keith tried but every time he opened his mouth, he felt like he made things worse. For all the times Shiro had pushed him to be the leader, and the one time Shiro had praised Keith for his actions, Keith still felt like a failure. He couldn't do what Shiro did, so easily, and he couldn't see why Shiro wouldn't recognize that, and be their leader again. He was the one everyone wanted, after all. Keith had just been a substitute.

Shiro glanced over his shoulder again, expression pointed. Keith pushed away from the wall, moving to stand beside Allura.

Allura brought up the system maps, flattening the solar systems into a horizontal plane. With another wave of her hands, the colors shifted. Red, orange, blue, marking who controlled each planet: the Galra, the rebel factions, and now, Lotor. Where once planets had been turning blue—for the rebellion—at a remarkable rate, one by one they were switching to red, recaptured by the Galran empire. For every three that turned red, one would turn orange, signaling their direct allegiance to Lotor.

"Lotor's taken Kythra?" Pidge spoke up. "They're not even a part of the Galran empire. No military installations."

But Pidge had been there, seeking her brother. Keith waited for someone else to point that out, but no one did. He wasn't sure whether he should. Kolivan put out a hand, turning the system map gently.

"The empire has reconquered the Chandra and Ulippa systems," Kolivan said. "The destruction in the Chandra system is especially thorough. The main battle fleets are moving into the Paglium and Valurian quadrants, too. We've had to fall back from those positions."

"Voltron can't be in every place at once," Allura said. "But our allies _are_ holding the Algedi, Pavonis, and Katerra systems."

"Our informants say the Algedi and Katerra are next on the list, once the Paglium and Valurian systems are subdued." Kolivan flicked a single finger, and the map rotated to bring those systems to his side.

"We need a different strategy," Shiro said. "We're stretched far too thin."

"Agreed." Kolivan lowered his hand, letting the map ease back into a slow revolution. "I'm pulling back my forces. Our work will be more beneficial as informants, within the empire."

"We need a better way to receive that information directly," Shiro said. It wasn't the first time he'd asked, and Keith had to admire that Shiro kept pressing, politely, but persistently. "Waiting for your contact slows our ability to respond."

"I've put too many of my people already at risk, fighting in the open field." Kolivan's tone was steady, but Keith had learned that slight twist of Kolivan's huge hand—thumb meeting forefinger—was a sign of quiet irritation. "Until we have a means to communicate that can't be intercepted, this is our best method."

"I'm working on it," Pidge said. "Hunk and I have had a few ideas. We'll be sending you back with some prototypes, if you can help us test them."

Kolivan graced Pidge with a rare smile that was more like a quirk of his lips, and Pidge beamed. Keith knew exactly how that felt; he'd gotten it, once, after sparring with Kolivan. He had a feeling Kolivan's reaction was more amusement at Keith's refusal to give up, and less acknowledgement, like it was for Pidge.

"For now, we must continue to use Voltron as a symbol," Allura said. "We need to inspire each planet to maintain their independence, once they're freed."

"No." Shiro paused the map. "What they need more than inspiration is weaponry. Most of these planets in the outer systems have one space station, at most. Taking out those stations means the planet loses their Galran overlords, but it also destroys their chances at fighting back. The Galra disarmed them, and we need to re-arm them."

"We could talk to the Olkari," Pidge said. "They could come up with weapons."

"Not at these numbers." Shiro crossed his arms, studying the map. "Kolivan, can your informants determine the locations of any weapons storage? If the Galra have bases where they store quintessence, they must have something similar for weapons."

"I'll put out word, and let you know what we find."

"It'll have to do." Shiro frowned. "It's too bad we couldn't make better progress before the Galra re-organized."

Keith couldn't hide the flinch. He'd spent months refusing to admit Shiro was gone, and just as long refusing to cooperate on filling the gap. All that wasted time was entirely his fault. And now a clone, on top of everything else. If the Galran empire had righted itself after Zarkon's death, at least some parts were still in chaos. Why else would anyone try sending a clone with such bad timing.

"There are significant bases in the Hadar and Vandor systems," Kolivan said. "We haven't struck there."

"Why bother with little weapons," Lance suggested. "Hijack a few battlecruisers, instead."

"That requires Voltron," Shiro said. "We already know we can't be in every place at once. We should play to our strengths, in terms of having five lions."

"Voltron _is_ our strength," Allura replied. "The problem isn't that we can't take out the battlecruisers. It's that this makes any war entirely between us and the Galran empire, instead of a fight shared among allies."

"Our allies are unarmed, untrained, and unwilling to put themselves on the line." Shiro said it with his usual implacable tone, though the words were a bit harsher than Keith expected.  

Allura frowned, her gaze fixed on the map. "Fixing that should be our highest priority. Otherwise, Voltron will have to take on every fight alone."

Shiro said nothing, and it felt as though the unspoken response hung in the air: with the Blades pulling back, Voltron had no other significant allies. That didn't leave much to discuss. Allura and Kolivan did most of the rest of the talking, with Kolivan explaining the supply lines and trade routes his people had uncovered.

When they finished, Hunk offered the Blades a meal before their departure. Kolivan and Obaz were quick to accept, but Nizak broke away to approach Keith. Shiro turned back to look with a slight frown, and Keith did his best to hurry along. It wasn't that hard, since keeping up with Nizak's stride required Keith practically trot alongside the Blade. At least Kolivan slowed his pace to match Shiro's and Allura's.

Keith couldn't really blame Shiro for being distant from the Blades, after what the Galra had done to Shiro. Again. It was better if Keith kept his distance, too. He knew it made Allura uncomfortable if he was too friendly with any of the Blades, and he could feel Shiro watching just as closely. He didn't want to keep secrets from either of them—he'd kept enough already—but neither did he want to talk about it.

He just wanted to know whether the Blades knew whose knife it was.

"I understand you have a training deck," Nizak said. "Show me it."

"What? Now?" Keith hesitated, waiting to see Shiro look over his shoulder.

But Nizak had halted, letting everyone else continue on. The corridor was empty except for them. Keith couldn't think of a reason not to, and some recalcitrant part of his soul knew this might be his only chance. He turned on his heel, leading the way.

Corridors of silence. Nizak was no more communicative than the rest of the Blades, and Nizak's mask didn't help. The four circles, arranged in a diamond-shape, told Keith nothing.

One level up, Keith opened the doors to the training hall. The lights powered up, lighting the massive room. Nizak stepped inside, looking around with what Keith hoped was approval. If nothing else, the castle was impressive. Keith waited, arms crossed, mind still chewing over how to ask.

"Show me your blade," Nizak said.

Keith drew his knife and held it before him. It glowed for a moment, light flickering down its edges, and flamed into its awakened state. As always, a shiver ran up his spine, but so fast he could barely note the sensation. Nizak studied the blade, then put out his hands, an invitation.

"Do you—" Keith set the blade in Nizak's waiting hands. "Do you recognize it?"

Nizak said nothing, turning the blade, studying its shape. He hefted it, swinging it around him so closely that tiny shards floated in the air, trimmed from Nizak's shoulder armor. Nizak stilled his movement, and grasped the sword along its edge, just below the guard. He held it out.

Keith put his hand on the grip. Nizak let go, then stepped forward, his long fingers adjusting Keith's grip.

"You're used to a knife," Nizak said. "You train mostly with that bayard-weapon, the one with the horizontal handle. Yes?"

"Yes." Keith flexed his hand around the grip. It felt unbalanced to hold it with his little finger pressed so close against the guard. "I've only fought with this once, though." With Thace, and since then, no reason. Nor did he care to remind anyone on the team of the Galra in their midst.

"Give me your other hand. Place it upon the end, here." Nizak held the sword's tip between his fingers. "Right hand, steady. Left hand…" He pushed the tip towards Keith, then away. "Do you feel that motion, in your elbow?"

"I think so?"

"For a Galra, this would be a long knife." Nizak spoke as though it wasn't supposed to bother Keith that even standing fully straight, his gaze was level with Nizak's sternum. Or whatever passed for the Galran chest bone. "But for you," Nizak continued, as though Keith hadn't just glared at his chest, "you are able to use the size to your advantage. Treat it as a lever, to carry through."

Nizak let go of the sword-tip, and stepped back. Keith took an experimental swing, feeling off-balance at the use of two hands.

"Here." Nizak moved behind Keith, holding his arms. "Like this." His hands were massive enough to completely cover Keith's, as he guided the motion. "Instead of swinging the sword, you swing your left hand, and the fulcrum is your right." He let go. "Do it."

Keith did so, astonished to see the blade nearly whistle through the air. He pulled it back until his hands were equal distance before him, then snapped his left hand towards his stomach. The sword pivoted, blurring in his vision before coming to rest, point-out. At Nizak's nudge, he did it again. Then again. Nizak walked around Keith in a full circle, and given the opaque mask, Keith could only guess the Blade was studying Keith's movements, and not simply enjoying the vast training deck.

"That is the move you need to incorporate, when you use this blade," Nizak said. "Work with it, rather than against it. It is not a straight edge, nor a horizontal handle. It's not for thrusting, but cutting. Controlled properly, it will not only be lethal, but quite efficient, given your stamina."

Keith tried to stifle his panting, and wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. The sword regressed. He had no idea what prompted that, or why. He hadn't had to concentrate to keep it awake, until it… fell asleep again? What was the reverse of awakening? He had so many questions, and too many uncertainties about who he could ask.

Nizak waited, hands clasped behind his back in the manner of the Blades. Almost military. Keith was about to sheath the knife, then held it out again. He couldn't get his voice above a whisper, feeling as though he asked something forbidden.

" _Do_ you recognize it?"

"Keith." Shiro's voice, over the castle's comm. "Kolivan is ready to go."

"On our way," Keith replied. When the click sounded that meant the comm was closed, Keith stared up at Nizak's mask. "Do you? Recognize it?"

"Even if I did, that is still a question only Kolivan can answer," Nizak said. "We should go."

Keith sheathed the blade, frustrated. He joined the team but hung at the back as Allura and Kollivan exchanged parting words. When the shuttle was free of the castle's perimeter, most of the team headed off in ones and twos. Lance and Hunk were chatting about something Obaz had said, while Pidge grumbled about relieving Coran. Allura lingered at the hangar entrance, as Shiro turned to Keith, his expression disappointed.

"Keith, I get you're curious about that blade, but we don't have time for you to be learning it. You're already proficient with your bayard."

 _Your_ bayard, Keith wanted to say, but didn't.

"You're part of this team, not theirs. Right?"

"Yeah. Of course."

"Good." Shiro smiled. "Hunk has leftovers in the kitchen, if you want to try them." He headed off, and Allura fell in with him.

Keith watched them go. Shiro's head was tilted, listening closely to whatever Allura was saying. Keith thought of Nizak, patiently explaining something Keith never could've learned on his own. 

No, Shiro was right. Keith wasn't a Blade. He was a Paladin. He should fight with a Paladin's weapon.

Keith turned towards his own quarters. He'd pick up his bayard and head back to the training deck. He was up to training level four, and still had so many levels to go. He could use the practice, and the reminder.

 

 

 

Lance wandered into the lab, unsurprised to find Hunk tinkering with a tangle of wires that led into a metal box with a piece of crystal soldered to it. There was no reason to ask. Nothing Hunk said in explanation would be any language Lance knew, anyway.

He settled down with his back to the wall, legs stretched out, slumped comfortably, and watched Hunk work. Lance considered dozing, and wondered whether someone would come get him, or if he was just supposed to know when his assigned guard duty would start.

"I don't see why we have to sit down there and watch something that's not even conscious," he said, wriggling until he slid downwards to lay with his arms crossed behind his head. The lab really needed some pillows. A dozen to start with, and then, pillow fort.

"Oh, sure, let's go through that nightmare with Sendak all over again." Hunk tapped two wires together, and sparks flew. The crystal glowed and went dark. "We'll blow something up on top of you so it feels like old times."

"Ha, ha. I just mean it's creepy. It's cold down there, and too quiet, and that… clone, thing. In a glowing box." Lance shuddered. He didn't mind it, unless he had to be there alone, and then he absolutely minded it. Totally. "Maybe we _should_ get rid of it."

"We don't have to, yet." Hunk snipped the wires, twisting the ends together with quick motions, and tucked those into the box's interior. "Pidge's got some serious power keeping it isolated from the rest of the castle. It's buffered with, like, four layers of abstraction."

Sure, whatever that meant. "I mean, what can we even learn from it? Most of the time, it didn't even say anything. And when it did talk, there was nothing we didn't already know."

"Well, look on the bright side. Maybe if we can clean it up enough, make sure it's not talking to the Galra about anything it hears, we can still use it. We might not be able to have Voltron in two places, but we could have Shiro in two places."

Lance sat up with a jolt. "Hunk, that's not funny."

"Kidding, relax. Although..." Hunk peered up at the ceiling, far overhead. "What if Shiro loaned the clone his clothes? It'd be like those movies where the evil twin switches places with the good twin. We wouldn't be able to tell them apart."

"Not tell them apart—" Lance stared at Hunk, astonished. "But they're totally different!"

"They're clones." Hunk shrugged, patiently untangling two wires. "They're exactly the same."

"They're nothing alike. Our Shiro's got a cowlick that makes his hair go—" Lance grabbed at his bangs, twisting them to the side. "This way, but the clone's cowlick goes the opposite way."

"That's just the haircut. Shiro cut his hair shorter, after it grew out so much."

"Their faces are different." Lance had looked back and forth between the two, and he _knew_ if the clone opened its eyes, it would be a different face. He didn't know how. He just knew. "Their shoulders, their build…"

"They're the same height. Clone. Exactly the same."

"Maybe you're right." Lance slumped back down, then stretched his legs upward, giving a few half-hearted kicks. "I just keep thinking…"

"Stop it, then." Hunk finished the wiring and slapped the box shut. "Everytime you think, I get in trouble."

Lance snorted and sat up. "Are you done? What are you making, anyway?"

"A little light that'll react to certain words. Pidge wanted it for something." Hunk fiddled with the crystal, then said, very clearly, "particle barrier."

Nothing happened.

"Maybe it's the voice recognition part. Lance, you say it."

"Say what?"

"Particle barrier." Hunk covered his eyes.

Lance groaned, but dutifully repeated, "particle barrier."

The crystal flared abruptly, bright enough to nearly burn Lance's retinas. He threw up his arms, but the afterimage was seared into his vision.

"What the hell was that?" He blinked rapidly, tears forming. "Why does Pidge want a _torture_ device?"

"No idea, but at least we know it works." Hunk sounded too satisfied.

Lance collapsed backwards, throwing his arm over his face. The searing pain wasn't enough to dislodge the strange worry chewing at him. Things had been bad when they'd lost Shiro, and it'd been wonderful to get Shiro back. Except in Shiro's absence, everything had changed.

"Hey, Hunk." Lance hated how forlorn he probably sounded. "Who d'you think our real leader is, now?"

"Keith, I guess." Hunk had to be working on the box again. There was a faint smell of burning rubber. "Why?"

"Wouldn't it be Shiro? It's his plans we listen to."

"Keith flies the Black Lion."

"Yeah, but… Never mind." Lance sighed. He'd gotten a tiny reprieve when Black refused Shiro. He'd have the Red lion a little longer, but at some point, Shiro would end up in Black's seat again.

Lance had no idea how it'd happen, but the idea had the weight of something inevitable. And when that happened, it would be Lance's task to gracefully relinquish Red back to Keith. It was where Keith belonged, and where everyone knew he really wanted to be. Shiro might be stuck on the castle's main deck during battles, but at least he had something to contribute from there. Lance would have nothing.

Maybe he could talk them into loaning him a shuttle, and have Allura open a wormhole, and send him home. With those five piloting Voltron, they'd be unbeatable. Except Black didn't want Shiro anymore. Maybe that meant Red wouldn't want Keith anymore, either. Lance wasn't sure which outcome he wanted most: to contribute, or to just go home.

"I don't know," he said, into the silence. "But something about that clone isn't right."


	4. Chapter 4

Keith poked his head into the massive room that Pidge had claimed as her central command. A single chair was positioned at a broad worksurface, facing a large light-generated map hanging above: stars and planets moving in gentle loops. Pidge's head was just barely visible above the chair, along with her kneecaps. Sitting cross-legged as she thought, again.

"You messaged me?" Keith asked, to give her warning rather than sneak up on her.

"I did?" Pidge blinked up at him, as Keith propped a hip on the table. She made a quick entry on her screen, and swept it to the side with an efficient gesture. "I think I have a lead. Look at this."

Keith twisted in place, puzzled at the overlays dropping into place in front of the system map. One looked like the wave-things he vaguely remembered from his one glimpse of calculus. Another was a series of dots on parallel bars, like a digital version of the balance toggles on his dad's equipment. He had no idea what the rest of it was.

"So I've been searching for planets that mine titanium-boron," Pidge said, flicking through one screen after another, too fast to follow. "Nanothermite technology is unusual enough to track but not so much it's unknown—"

"I don't need the details." Keith gave her a sideways smile.

"Oh, right." She swiped the screens out of the way, revealing the map again. "Okay, bottom line. I think the group that rescued my brother is based out of this planet. It's the fourth planet in the Helicon system." Another swipe, and the map revolved, zeroing in on the little planet. Mostly rocky, it did have some bright spots of green and blue.

"And you want to go find out."

Pidge was quiet for a moment, flicking her finger across the touch-surface to make the planet rotate. "I do. I mean—I know we're ramping up, 'cause we've got to move into a new strategy and that'll probably mean we need Voltron even more, but the information I tracked down isn't that old so I'm hoping there'll be some trace, not just another dead-end, I mean, I wouldn't ask if I thought it was a dead end—"

"Pidge." His mind was already made up, anyway. "You should go."

She didn't look at him, her head down, studying the movement of her fingers across the touch-surface. "I can add stealth capabilities to one of the shuttles, and take that—"

"Why wouldn't you take the Green lion?"

Pidge gave a little half-shrug. "It's not really a mission."

"It _is_ a mission." Keith turned back around to face the doorway, his back to the maps he didn't always grasp and didn't want to see. It was too overwhelming, somehow. "If you can find your brother, do it. And if you only find a lead, you could still make contact with another rebel group. We could use the allies."

"But if I take the Green lion, and you need Voltron while I'm gone…"

"It wouldn't make any difference. We'd still need you to fly it." From a distance, Keith was somewhat amazed he was having an actual conversation, at length, with Pidge.

"Maybe not." Pidge sat forward, steepling her hands under her chin. "Maybe I just need to explain to her that I want her to let any of the rest of you fly her. Then she wouldn't shut you out, and if you need Voltron… I don't know, maybe Shiro could fly her?"

It felt like being stabbed. He didn't _want_ Shiro flying Green, like some kind of consolation prize, but Pidge definitely wouldn't take well to Green being considered second-rate. He wanted Shiro in Black again, and sometimes it was hard to stifle the sense that if only he'd waited, if only he'd refused, then Black would've waited for Shiro. Keith stepping into that cockpit meant he'd given up. He'd agreed it was time to abandon Shiro. Black was just following suit.

"Keith?"

"Yeah, I—" He shook himself. "I think you should take Green. The shuttles aren't armed, and if you run into trouble, it'd be better if you have the Green lion."

Pidge's smile was small, and happy. Keith gave her the same, but his pleasure was mostly from realizing that somehow he'd actually managed to say the right thing.

"When are you planning on going?"

"Once I've told everyone, I guess. I don't think I need a wormhole. It's not really that far. Shouldn't take more than a week to get there. Plus I want to do some fly-bys through the systems between here and there, see what kind of chatter I can pick up."

"How long do you think it'll take? Round-trip."

"I don't know." The map reflected across her glasses, star systems circling gently, masking her eyes. "Maybe… three weeks, or so? I'll keep you posted with any news."

Three weeks could pass so quickly, or feel like an eternity. Keith wished he'd paid better attention during the meeting to any talk of time frames. He was sure the team was in a holding pattern while they waited to hear back from Kolivan. Blade information was always useful and accurate, if sometimes delayed. Pidge would be back before then, but Keith should check with Shiro, anyway.

Should he? The last time he'd gone to Shiro with a question, Shiro had only shaken his head and given Keith somewhere between a lecture and a pep talk: Shiro wasn't the team's leader, now. Keith should be making those decisions. Whatever he chose, Shiro would respect.

Keith hunched his shoulders, thoughts tumbling over and colliding as he tried to figure it out. His impulse was to tell Pidge to go, but he was supposed to think of the rest of the team. He couldn't refuse Pidge the chance to find her brother, though. He felt queasy, and his chest ached. He shoved the sensations aside, took a deep breath, and went with his instinct.  

"Go ahead and go, now, while the news is fresh. I'll let everyone know."

Pidge sat bolt upright. "Really? Alright, I just need to grab my stuff, and I'll be going. Oh, and tell Hunk if he finished the keyword classification crystal, just leave it in the lab and I'll add the next set of scripts when I get back."

"Keyword class-what?" Keith asked, but Pidge was already gone.

Keith was almost at the kitchen when he paused to check a corridor control panel. The Green Lion was gone. Pidge had probably already been packed when she asked Keith. In the kitchen, Hunk was working on a new dish. It smelled as wonderful as always, and Keith's mouth watered. 

"Pidge has another lead on her brother," Keith began.

"Yeah, she swung by to get some snacks for the trip." Hunk finished washing something that looked like an oversized blue banana, set it on the chopping block, and began to slice it into large chunks. "Do you really think now was a good time to let her go, though?"

"It's her brother."

"I know, but without her… no Voltron."

Keith snagged a thin shred of the blue banana. "We're waiting on news from the Blades. We should have a little breathing space." The blue slice was intensely sour. Keith spit it out, and wiped his tongue off with his shirt, for good measure. "Can you really make something edible out of that?"

Hunk glanced over his shoulder at Keith, expression blank. "I could serve that paladin meal of Coran's, if you prefer."

"No, no," Keith backed up, hands raised in surrender. "I'm sure that big… blue… curved thing will taste great, once you're done with it. Oh, and Pidge said something about a keyword class, uh, thing?"

"Right, she told me when she came by."

Normally, this time of the castle's schedule, Keith would be heading down to the training deck. It was really the only thing to do, and he was at least reasonably decent. He was probably still on the levels fit for an Altean child, but he'd made progress. It was the only thing that felt like progress, anymore.

Hunk was in the kitchen, so either Lance or Coran were guarding the clone. Shiro and Allura had each tried another interrogation, but the clone had stopped talking. Pidge had suggested continuing to record, in case there was a way to produce an AI that could be hacked. Keith didn't care, as long as they didn't expect him to help.

Keith hesitated, fingers over the button to send the conveyor to the training deck. No, he should be telling the rest of the team about Pidge's mission. He switched his destination to the command deck. He stepped onto the bridge to find Allura running a systems check. Shiro was down at the front, talking with Coran.

"Security check complete," Allura announced, then paused, scrolling back through the screens. "Where did the Green lion go?"

Before Keith could answer, Coran replied. "Oh, she left maybe half a varga ago? She pinged me as she took off. Has another lead on her brother, she said."

"And she left without telling anyone else?" Shiro straightened up, studying the visuals. "Hail the Green Lion."  

"I can try," Coran said. "No, looks like she's already on stealth. She'll need to come out of that for any long-distance transmissions."

"She's heading to the Helicon system," Keith said. "She should be back in a few weeks."

"She needs to be back here, now." Shiro turned to face Keith. "Things are too open, right now. She should know better—"

"She asked me." Keith halted by the red pilot's seat—his old seat—and his feet wouldn't move further. "I figured we have time before we hear from Kolivan—"

"You figured?" Shiro shook his head. "Keith, you can't keep splitting the team up. You need to think of more than just one person at a time."

"Shiro's right." Allura closed her screens. "Keith, remember what happened when you and I split the team? It almost ended in complete disaster. We need to stick together."

"Pidge has been on plenty of solo missions—" The words— _while you were gone_ —caught in Keith's throat. "Already. She'll check in regularly, and if we need her right away, Allura can open a wormhole to bring her back."

"And if she doesn't check in for the next six quintants?" Shiro strode to the black lion's seat, and hit the conference button. "Lance, get to the bridge, _now_."

A moment later Lance's voice came over the comm. "What? Why? What's happening? Is it Lotor?"

"No, it's Pidge. Get up here." Shiro snapped off the comm and fell silent, arms crossed.

Keith couldn't even move. Shiro's dark mood was all over his face, probably thinking hard about how to fix Keith's latest screw-up. Keith waited for the verdict.     

Lance arrived, wet feet skidding across the bridge's smooth deck. He wore his swim trunks, wet hair plastered to his head. "What is it—"

"Pidge is gone," Shiro said, cutting him off. "We need you to go after her."

"Wait, what? Why?" Lance nudged Keith out of the way. "My spot," he said, and dropped into his seat, water drops flying as he brought up the screens. "She's on stealth—"

"We know that." Shiro had Coran bring up a system map. "She's headed to the Helicon system. As long as she's on stealth, we can't get ahold of her, and we can't wait until whenever she decides to check in. You need to go after her."

"Why me?" Lance paused, and gave Keith a puzzled look. "If it wasn't okay for her to go, why did she go?"

No one said anything, and Keith forced out the words. "I told her it was okay."

"Then make him go!" Lance pointed at Keith. "Why do _I_ have to go?"

"Because if anything happens, we need Black here. And we can't go ourselves, because we're due for the the next contact with Kolivan." Shiro was implacable. He was also right.

"Do I have at least enough time for a shower?" Lance stood up, wiped the water from his face, and stomped over to the conveyor to Red's hangar. "Fine, fine, one Pidge-retrieval coming right up."

"Take a shuttle," Shiro called, just as Lance was about to step into the conveyor.

Lance popped right back out, baffled. "What?"

"No, take Red," Keith said. "It'll be—"

"Too dangerous," Shiro broke in. "Red's fast, but you still won't catch up with Pidge's head start. The last thing we need is two lions out alone without backup. Coran, given Green's top speed and destination, can you figure roughly the point where she'll be in about two vargas?"

"I think so," Coran said.

"Good. Lance, get to a shuttle. We'll set you down as close as we can figure to Pidge's course. Set out a beacon and she should be able to pick it up in near-distant channels."

"Uh, sure," Lance said, with a worried look at Keith. "Okay, then, I'll let you know when I'm ready."

The doors slid shut behind Lance, and Allura turned away, preparing herself for the wormhole. Shiro approached, and Keith did his best to hide the flinch when Shiro raised his hand. But Shiro merely clapped Keith on the shoulder.

"It's tough, but you'll get there. You just need to think in terms of the whole team, not just one person's wishes." Shiro let go. "No one learns this overnight, Keith."

"I know," Keith said. "I'm—gonna go train. For a—bit. Let me know if you hear anything."

He meant to, but instead of stopping at the training deck, he kept walking. The long empty corridors always had him thinking of Lance saying the castle was haunted. The crystal might no longer be corrupted, and the castle wasn't trying to actively kill them, but it still felt too hollow, too empty. Somehow Keith ended up at the lowest levels, in the cryopod hall.

The only light came from the glow of the liquid surrounding the clone. Keith slowed his steps, cautious. The clone's head was down, eyes closed. No colors plumed into the secondary unit, and the control panel was dark.

Unable to stop himself, Keith drifted closer, until he stood directly before the pod. For the first time, he raised a hand to the pod's surface. It was cool to the touch, though something pulsed, a faint pressure against his palm. A heartbeat?

Like every time before, Keith could only take in details. The curl of the brow. The scar across the nose. The shadows playing across the collarbones, the swath of muscles in the curve of the shoulder.

"Who are you," Keith whispered.

The clone opened its eyes, staring right at him. Its voice seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere. "Takashi Shirogane, first lieutenant, UNAF, serial number 45-310-288, birthdate February 29th."

Keith yanked his hand away, nearly falling as he stumbled backwards.

The clone hadn't moved. Its head was down, eyes closed.

Keith fled.

 

 

 

Hunk heard the news when he arrived on the bridge. Coran was alone, and happy to have someone to talk to. Allura and Shiro were probably lost in long conversations about strategy, which Hunk had learned to ignore. He couldn't take strategy apart, fix it, or build it brand-new, after all.

"Keith's down in the training deck, hunh." Hunk scrolled through the castle's systems. Yep, there was Keith, beating viciously on another poor training bot. Hunk was starting to feel sorry for the poor things. It wasn't their fault Keith needed an outlet.

"It's only been a varga, so Lance should be catching hold of Pidge by now." Coran twitched a few of his panel's settings. "Could you check on the clone?"

"No problem." Hunk stood and stretched. "Might as well get something to eat and take it with me."

The kitchen was empty, and the slow-cooker Hunk had finagled was working well. The chili looked to be coming along. It wasn't quite fajitas or burritos, but if he'd guessed right, it might be pretty close to one of the dishes Keith had mentioned as a favorite. He dished up a large bowl, and on impulse, a second one, and packed them in a warmer box.

In Hunk's solid opinion, nothing created memories like food. When people ate food from home, they remembered home. Food was the backbone of family meals, good times, certain places and dates. Long after the emotion was forgotten, the taste would remain. And if a clone could bleed, and it had a heartbeat, then it could taste spice, salt, sour, sweet, savory.

The cryopod hall was empty, of course. Hunk set the box down and studied the control panel for a long minute. He tapped a few buttons, nothing happened, and he decided to back away. Better not to risk hitting something that ejected the poor clone.

The cord still snaked from the clone's arm, down to the hole at the bottom. Hunk crouched down, poked his fingers into the hole, and tugged upwards. He wriggled in three fingers, then a fourth. The hole was giving way. He kept pushing and tugging until he had both hands in, and adjusted his squat. He muttered a quick prayer that he wouldn't end up sawing off his own fingers, and heaved to his feet.

The surface gave way with a ripping sound. The ambient liquid splashed on Hunk, then motors started up and the pod sucked the liquid out with a loud whoosh. It imbalanced the clone, who fell forward into Hunk's arms.

"Whoa, whoa, careful." Hunk laid the clone down, hand under the clone's head, then removed his own jacket and used it as a pillow. "Okay, there we go," he muttered. He had to hope it wasn't one of his better ideas that turned out to be worse.

After a moment, the clone's eyelashes fluttered, then the clone gasped, back arching. Before Hunk could do anything, the clone fell back, mouth open, panting, looking around.

"Kind of a rude awakening," Hunk said. "But asking you questions was getting nowhere, so I had a different idea."

The clone tried to speak, but it could only cough.

"You've been breathing liquid for like two weeks. Supposed to be enough to keep you alive, but it's just not the same." Hunk pulled the box close, then helped the clone sit up, propped up against one of the empty cyropods.

"Thanks," the clone said, and coughed again.

"You think you can hold the bowl?" Hunk held out the spoon and bowl.

The clone raised its galra arm a few inches off the floor, groaned under its breath, and let the arm. "Doesn't look it," it whispered.

"Okay, then we do this the old-fashioned way." Hunk gathered up enough of a bit on the spoon, and held it out. "It's supposed to be chili. It's a work in progress, but I think it's pretty close."

The clone's smile was somewhere between a silent laugh, and simply opening its mouth to try. Hunk spooned the food in. The clone closed its mouth, letting the food roll around. A few slow chews, one swallow, another.

"More," the clone whispered, and opened its mouth again.

So either it was good, or there was a memory there. Hunk wasn't sure which he wanted it to be. He continued feeding the clone, a bite at a time, until the bowl was half-empty. He hadn't even touched his own, but he'd forgotten his own hunger, anyway.

The clone twitched his fingers, raising them, and Hunk halted. "Are you full?"

"No," the clone whispered. "It tastes... just like the chili Roy—Major Föcker—made." It sighed, eyes closing, a smile on its lips. "Keith could put away five bowls of it, if we let him."

"Right, sure, everyone goes to the legendary major's house for a casual meal." Hunk stirred the chili, gathering up another spoonful, then froze.

Shiro hadn't had the galra arm when he'd been at the Garrison. How would the galra know of Shiro's past, all the years he'd lived before they'd set that arm on him and begun recording? Hunk's heart suddenly thudded too fast. He somehow set the bowl down without sending chili everywhere.

"Shiro?" It couldn't be. But what clone would have memories of food, from so many years ago? He could barely get his voice above an astonished whisper. "Is that _you_?"

"I don't know." Shiro's eyes glittered, and he closed them, expression worn. "I thought I was me, but… I don't know anymore."


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> many thanks again to @ptw30, for helping me think of all the complications the writers could be adding, but aren't.

Kolivan stood by the pilot's seat, feeling space bend around them. Distant stars curved and folded, their light elongated as the ship passed.

"Fifteen doboshes to arrival," Obaz said.

"Find out if Lokti has returned."

"Will do."

Kolivan turned away from the displays and headed into the shuttle's second chamber. NIzak rested on the long bench, feet crossed at the ankles. Kolivan sat opposite, hands on his knees.

"You're worried about that kit?" Nizak turned his head, the lights across his mask glinting.

"Tell me your thoughts on Keith's blade."

Nizak grunted. "Dull. You sure it was sharp, before?"

"Yes."

"It's not, now. It's eroding." Nizak folded his hands and put them behind his head. "I showed the kit tips on handling it. Pretty sure he's mostly self-taught, but he's fierce."

"Not enough to keep from losing his edge, though."

"Afraid not. Maybe the fight's got him overwhelmed," Nizak offered.

"You didn't see him at the trial. Nine vargas."

"And then he slipped right between everyone's fingers." Nitzak snickered. "Still, this is a big fight. That kit strikes me as one who wants that one big fight to end it all."

"He's young. They all are."

"Young enough to die," Nitzak observed. "I was expecting more response, when you said we're pulling back to be only informants, again."

"Only? Open battle has its thrills, but nothing is as dangerous as subterfuge. We need better information, and faster." Kolivan leaned his head against the shuttle wall, and closed his eyes.

"Shiro seemed annoyed, though. I can't figure him out."

"Oh?"

"He doesn't seem anything like the way you'd described him."

Kolivan opened his eyes, mildly surprised. Nitzak's skill lay not in observing but in perceiving. "What were you expecting?"

"The way the rest of you talked, you shouldn't be able to see light between him and that kit. But what I saw, Shiro's partnership is more with Allura. The rest just follow his lead."

"She _is_ the princess of Altea."

"And as young as the rest of them." Nizak shrugged, a lazy gesture. "I know why they're doing those exhibitions. Promote the symbolism, inspire a rebellion. But…"

"It's putting a lot of civilians in one place." Kolivan wanted nothing to do with that aspect. He'd cooperated, because they were allies; the Paladin had so few. But there was no way around the fact that the Blades' presence made potential allies uneasy. Better to withdraw, and provide assistance where his people would provide the most benefit.

"At some point, the empire will retaliate." Nizak swung his legs around and sat up. "Every place they've been will have a target on their heads."

"Depends." Kolivan couldn't shake thought of the star map's glowing colors.

One by one, Lotor was turning planets away from Zarkon's empire, and amassing his own set of allies. If it had been hard to infiltrate up to striking distance of Zarkon, it was impossible with Lotor. He was an unknown, and Kolivan did not like unknowns.

Obaz called back, from the pilot's seat. "Lokti just arrived at base."

"Good," Kolivan replied. "Tell her to stay put and wait for us."

"Strange, though," Nizak said. "That other kid, the jumpy one."

Kolivan had to think for a moment. "Lance."

"He had a good suggestion. Battle cruisers, armed with the right codes, could turn on imperial allies, and do some major damage on their own. No need for Voltron, for that."

"We'd need more forces than we currently have," Kolivan said.

A battle-cruiser was a massive ship. Kolivan considered the numbers. Five Galra at the helm in rotations, for communications and cover, with twenty bodies managing crucial systems. Those not in front of a view screen could be allies, if any were willing to work with Galra. Drones could handle the rest. The yellow and green Paladins—Hunk and Pidge—could probably find a way to turn the drone army to rebel purposes. It could work.

"It wasn't the only good suggestion I heard," Nizak said. "Their ideas had potential, especially the ones from that Lance. But there was always a reason not to explore."

"What are you saying?" Kolivan settled his bulk, waiting.

"Perhaps Shiro is one who sees a leader as having the ideas, so he sees others' ideas as a challenge." Nizak tapped one long finger on his forearm, as he thought it over. "Or he's a leader too rigid in his own vision of how things should happen. Or…"

"Or?"

"He knows something he's not telling us."

Kolivan shifted, pondering. He'd considered Shiro an honorable ally, one who'd willingly put himself on the front lines to defend those who mattered to him. Kolivan had mourned Shiro's absence, in a way. It had been a harsh and unexpected blow.

It remained a mystery how or why Shiro had returned, but Kolivan had been glad to greet him again. And it continued to irk Kolivan that Shiro would hint—never too strongly, but still—to be given greater direct access to the Blades' sources.

"There are many things they're not telling us," Kolivan finally said. "For now, I'm willing to respect their secrets."    

He would, for awhile, but he'd wasn't going to commit any more of his people to death on a battlefield as long as he had so many questions. Kolivan went to join Obaz at the controls. They'd be at the base shortly.

 

 

 

Allura almost laughed to find herself back in Blue's hangar. To think of the times she'd found herself in Red's hanger, as if waiting for her father's ghost. Now her feet always led her to Blue.

She approached, and Blue's eyes flickered into life. The big metal cat bent down, mouth opening for Allura to walk up, into the cockpit. Allura settled down in the seat sideways, her legs over the arms.

"Hey, girl," she said.

Blue purred, a quiet moment of comfort. Lance had said Blue talked to him all the time, but even though Allura could hear Blue, it seemed Blue only spoke when there was reason. It didn't matter; in the several months since taking over Blue's seat, Allura had grown accustomed to telling Blue things she couldn't tell anyone else.

"How much do you know of what goes on, in the castle?" Allura asked, raising her head from her knees. The lion didn't answer, and Allura sank back down. "Yeah, I guess it's not that important to you."

A clone, sent by the Galra. It was heartbreaking, knowing Shiro was in agony just looking at it. The Galra had taken his arm, a year of his life, and now they'd made copies of him. Who knows how many they'd made, or why. The entire idea made Allura sick.

"We should've told the Blades," Allura murmured. "Maybe they'd know something about what the empire's up to. Maybe we should remove that arm, and see what it's re—"

Blue pulled upright and roared, the movement so abrupt Allura nearly fell out of the seat.

"Blue? What's wrong?" Allura got herself around and sitting properly barely in time as Blue coiled and sprang. The lion leapt forward. "Wait, stop! Stop! Please, Blue—"

The lion growled, blasting forward with a force that threw Allura back in the seat. She got her feet in the pedals, caught hold of the sticks, but Blue wasn't listening. On the edge of panic, Allura hit the controls for a channel to the castle.

Coran's face popped up on the side-screen. "Princess? Where are you going?"

"I don't know! Blue just decided to take off—" Allura craned her neck to see the castle, disappearing into the far distance.

"We're coming after you," Coran said, as Shiro appeared over his shoulder.

"Princess?" Shiro asked.

"Blue, come on, we're friends now," Allura cried. "At least tell me what you're—"

Blue growled, and an image flashed into Allura's mind. _Lance_.  

Allura bent low over the controls. "Coran, track me, but stay far enough back. I'll call you if I need you."

"Allura," Shiro said, "turn around and come back."

"Sorry, I can't. It's alright, Blue knows where we're going."

Shiro protested again, and Allura frowned. Despite a wiser part of her insisting it was a bad idea, she shut off the link. She needed to concentrate, and she needed to be ready.

 

 

 

Shiro finished off the second bowl of chili, as Hunk's footsteps faded into the distance. His vision was still blurry, and his ears were somewhat clogged, but overall he no longer felt like he'd been battered to pieces. Just groggy, as though he'd slept too long.

In a manner of speaking, perhaps he had. Shiro tucked all the evidence into the warming container Hunk had left behind, and studied the shards of the cryopod. There were no eyes watching him in this hall—he'd had reason to check once, to destroy the evidence of his own panic—but given how little he knew of the situation, he needed to keep the advantage.

He dropped the warming container into the pod, and gathered up all the shards of the pod's surface. The rest he swept into the corners with his arm. It only took a few taps and a new surface slid down over the cryopod, and Shiro hit the button to eject it.

Memories flitted through his head of the last time he'd stood there. Shiro shook them off, checked the hall, and retreated in the opposite direction from Hunk. He'd spent enough time wandering these halls when they'd first arrived, and down this way should lie small rooms that looked like staff quarters. Some even had belongings, left behind and untouched for centuries.

What he wanted was a shower, and a change of clothes. What he _needed_ was a better of idea of what the hell was going on.

 

 

 

Allura had no idea Blue could or would travel that fast. All she could do was hold on, and treat the lion like—as Lance had once remarked—it was on autopilot. The darkness of space stretched out around them, but the lion never wavered.

Blue knew exactly where she was headed. They were almost on top of the scattered pieces of silver metal before Allura realized what lay before her.

Lance's shuttle.

Blue stilled with a growl, facing the drifting scraps of metal. A hunk of the hull remained, tumbling slowly in a circle from whatever blow or shot that had broken the shuttle to pieces. Allura started to get up, and promptly sat back down.

She wore no armor, no helmet. She was stuck with only the lion's massive claws, if she wanted to pull apart the scraps. No, wait. She tapped on the controls, pleased to find Blue also had the same systems as Pidge and Hunk had used, on the gas planet.

A single red dot, somewhere in the middle of the damaged hull. Lance was alive.

"Okay, Blue, we need to be really gentle," she told the lion, and gave the throttle a tiny flick of her wrist.

Blue moved closer to the debris, nudging pieces aside until she reached the hull. Allura hadn't even moved, and Blue had opened her mouth, engulfing half of the hull.

"Careful, Blue, don't cut him in—"

"Allura?" Lance's voice, then his laughter. "Oh, thank goodness, I was starting to get a little worried."

"Are you alright?"

"Mostly, just banged up some. Let me push this out—" A grunt, a scrape of metal. "Hey, Blue, open up?"

The lion purred, and Allura leaned forward to see the crunched metal floating free. The lion closed its mouth. A few moments later, the doors slid open and Lance entered the cockpit, removing his helmet with a relieved sigh.

"Thought I was a goner out there," he said. "How'd you know to come get me? The first hit took out my comms systems. Did Pidge let you know?"

"What? No, uh. I just happened to be sitting in Blue, and next thing I knew…" Allura tried to smile, but it felt awkward. Lance leaned over the back of the seat, grinning down at her. "Uh, did you want to fly?"

Lance's smile remained, but he looked away, quickly. "I'm good. Blue's yours, after all."

"So what happened?" Allura twisted the throttle, shifted her feet, and the lion turned around gracefully. The rear rockets fired, and the lion purred.

"Galra destroyer is what happened. I was hanging out, waiting for Pidge, and next thing I knew a destroyer was right on top of me. Pidge arrived a moment later." Lance frowned. "It only took one hit and the shuttle was toast. Last I heard, she was saying she'd distract them, then the comms blew up." He shrugged. "And then the rest of the shuttle."

"You're lucky you got out in one piece."

"Yeah, well, I didn't get out so much as just hid the wreckage." Lance bent over to give her a puzzled look. "Seriously? Pidge didn't send a message?"

"No, Blue just up and decided it was time to leave."

"Oh." Lance patted the side control panel. "Nice to know we're not totally on bad terms, Blue."

Blue purred, and Allura glanced over her shoulder at Lance. "Can you hear her?"

"What? No." That odd sadness again, with the immediate smile. "She's your lion now, after all."

Allura couldn't think of what to say, to that.

"I did a scan when I arrived and set up the beacon." Lance bent over, chin on his fist as he leaned against the seat. "There was nothing around. At all. Just a million miles of nothing. And then whammo! Galra."

It could've been sheer bad luck. The Galra had scanned, found an unidentified shuttle, and come to see. Or it could be something more. There was no way to know.

"A lion should be able to outrun a destroyer, if she didn't just take it down." If the destroyer went into hyperdrive, it'd overshoot the lion by a million miles; otherwise, it was little more than a carrier ship, half the size and a third the power of a battle cruiser. Allura expanded the scanning range to its furthest limits. Nothing. She opened a frequency to the castle. "Coran? I've got Lance, and we're heading back now."

"Is Pidge with you?" Shiro's face appeared on the side-screen.

"Isn't she with you?"

"No, we haven't heard from her. Coran, do a scan, see if you can pick up signs of Pidge."  

A moment later, Coran's voice could be heard. "Nothing. She might still be in stealth mode."

"She came out of it when she saw me, and once the Galra had a lock on her…" Lance shook his head. "She must've lured them away in a different direction."

"Stay there," Shiro said. "We'll come to you, and use the castle to run a broader scan."

 

 

 

Keith studied the hollow space where the pod had been. The recording column was dark, its liquid clear. Hunk stood beside Keith, aghast.

"I don't understand," he said, for the third time. "It was right here."

Keith frowned. Hunk wasn't even looking at the empty unit. He was looking back and forth, up and down the hall.

"It was in this one," Keith said, pointing.

"I know, but—" Hunk grabbed his head, fingers tangling in his hair. "I _know_ I didn't eject it. I could've sworn..."

Memories came back, of Shiro's desperate response to Sendak. Keith stepped to the control panel, but none of the symbols made much sense to him. "Did you talk to it?"

"Well, yeah, wouldn't you?" Hunk dropped his hands. "Well, not you. Just you in general."

"Did it—answer you?"

"Yeah." Hunk stared at his feet, as close to frowning as he ever got. Or maybe just thinking hard.

"Do you—" Keith took a breath, and asked anyway. "Are you certain its voice wasn't only in your head?"

" _What?_ "

"I don't think it's just you," Keith said, hastily. "I think it's these pods. Shiro said he could hear Sendak, in his head. And just after Pidge left, I came down, and it…" He cringed, not wanting to repeat the words he'd heard, or remember the flat, sober tones. "I don't think it spoke. But I could hear it."

"Shiro and Allura questioned it, and we could all hear its answers," Hunk replied.

"But did we ever check to make sure we all heard the same thing?"

Hunk's jaw dropped, and his brown face turned distinctly pale. He turned around, staring at the pod, and slowly put his hand on the eject button. "But I thought… I could've sworn."

Keith relented. "Come on, let's get back to the bridge. Allura should be back with Pidge and Lance by now."

"Yeah, sure thing." Hunk joined Keith, but he cast several looks over his shoulder back at the empty hall. He didn't speak again all the way to the bridge.

 

 

 

Zethrid slowed her fighter when the long-range scanners picked up an unfamiliar signal. She kicked the fighter into a higher speed, taking a long path just out of visual sight of the signal's source, and opened a channel to Lotor's ship.

"Axca," Zethrid called, waiting for the beam to reach back the distance.

"Here." Axca's face appeared on the view screen. "Have you made contact with Mutok?"

"I'm on my way. Does this signal look familiar to you?" Zethrid relayed the scanner results and waited, one finger tapping on the controls.

"Oh, a kitty!" Ezor exclaimed, leaning into the screen.

"That's it?" Axca frowned. "Only the one?"

"All alone, far as I can tell." Zethrid grinned. "Should I take it?"

Lotor spoke, in the background. "Wait, and do another scan. What's its bearing?"

Zethrid calibrated the system to account for her own trajectory, and ran another scan. "It's bearing two-seven-seven on three-five-three and six-nine-nine-oh-seven, at roughly three-three-five-three-one-six-six."

Ezor whistled. "Could we keep up with that?"

"Not for long. However, the Eridani system is immediately in its path." Axca turned away from the viewscreen. "What do you want to do?"

"Zethrid," Lotor said, over the comm. "Do another scan, this time on imperial frequencies. Is there anyone else around?"

The first scan showed nothing. When Zethrid widened the beam as far as it would go, she got a faint signal at the farthest distance. She considered the data, vaguely amused. "Galran destroyer." She waited, scanned again, and chuckled. "Same bearing, but boy, it's being left behind."

"Continue on to meet with Mutok," Lotor said. "Axca, hyper us to Zethrid's current location."

"Why not calculate to intersect with the lion?" Axca asked.

"No, stay far enough back," Lotor said. "I just want to see where it's going, all by itself."

Zethrid hit the panel to run one more scan, to confirm the lion's bearing. Nothing happened. She hit it again with an annoyed growl.

"What is it?" Axca hadn't yet sent the ship into hyperdrive.

"It's gone." Zethrid swung back around to run parallel to what had been the lion's path. "It should still be in range, but nothing's showing up."

"Narti wants to know if it overheated and blew up?" Exor asked.

"No sign of that," Zethrid said, equally disappointed. "It just disappeared."

"Zethrid, meet with Mutok, and do limit the explosions this time." Lotor's tone was amused. "We'll deal with the disappearing lion."

"Very well," Zethrid grumbled. She shut down the channel, and angled back around to continue towards the Algedi system.

 

 

 

Shiro kept an ear out, keeping to the shadows. He didn't have Pidge's way with systems, or Hunk's with engineering, but he'd always paid attention, and he did know a few tricks. He overrode the security on one of the chambers in the lowest level, and stepped inside.

Ten thousand years ago, this had been someone's living quarters. All Shiro cared about was whether the shower, incinerator, and replicator still worked. His own clothes were in the system, though a new style replaced them as default. He made note of the subtle changes, and set the system to deliver duplicates. Not of the other Shiro, but his own.

It took a few minutes to figure out the hallway camera. It showed only the hall's darkness, tinged with blue in one corner, the faint glow from a distant bulkhead light. But it was something to watch, that might be warning. He debated washing himself the long way, with a torn strip of his undersuit, and decided against it. He didn't want to linger, and he could shower faster.

Shiro stayed under the water only long enough to get wet, and dried himself off with the remnants of the previous occupant's bed covers. By then, his clothes were ready. He incinerated his bloody and filthy undersuit, and dressed while the machine built his boots. With those finally on, he felt more human than he had since he'd first woken. He dampened the lights until his eyes adjusted, and slid back into the corridor.

He needed to get at least two levels up, to where the control panels were activated and would hook into the main systems. Then he could hear and see, quietly, whatever was going on. Somewhere there should be an outlet to the castle's vertical ducting, and he had to hope that Pidge wasn't so small that she was the only one who could fit.

 

 

 

Keith took his seat at the front of the bridge, and was up again almost immediately. Hunk had looked worried about the news from Allura, but with Coran at the helm, there was little to do except wait. Shiro had turned back to watch the screens and the endless space, with nothing more to say.

That had been enough for Hunk, who'd excused himself to get back to work on Pidge's newest invention. Keith paced for several minutes, and each time found himself back by the seat for the red paladin. Annoyed with himself, he'd head back to the black paladin's seat, only to get up again.

"Keith," Shiro said. "Be patient."

"I know." Keith could feel his agitation spike, but he wasn't sure why. "I'll be on the training deck." With no risk of anyone interrupting him, it might be a rare chance to work with his blade.

"We have a hail," Coran said. "It's Pidge."

"On the main screens," Shiro said.

Pidge's face appeared on the large screens overhead. Her image was distorted with static. Coran tweaked something, and the image cleared a little.

"Had to play decoy to get a destroyer away from Lance's shuttle," Pidge said. "I can't keep the channel open for too long, or it'll find me again. I'll send word once I've got it off my tail."

"We're heading to get Lance, now," Shiro said. "Come back around and meet up with us, there."

"I will after I reach the Helicon system."

"No. You turn around, now. You're a paladin. You should know better than to run off whenever you feel like it."

"I'm not running off!" Pidge glared at the screen. "I have a solid lead on my brother, and I'm going to find him."

"You've been chasing dead ends for eight months. Your priority is this team."

"My _priority_ is finding my _brother!_ "

At the back of the bridge, Keith crossed his arms, uneasy. The team had never once told him to stop looking for Shiro. Even after forcing him into the Black paladin's seat, they'd looked the other way while he continued to search. He'd tried to think like a leader when Pidge had first asked, but perhaps the truth was that he'd thought only of himself.

If he'd had a lead on Shiro, nothing would've stopped him. Nothing had. He'd had no choice but to give Pidge the same, if he could.

"Pidge." Shiro planted a fist on the console, his tone dangerously low. "This is unacceptable. Turn around, _now_ , or we'll be forced to consider you as leaving the team."

"I won't. I'm here to find my brother, and that's what I'm going to do."

"Then you're no longer on this team."

Coran's head came up, staring at Shiro in open astonishment.

Keith couldn't keep his silence, his feet carrying him froward. "Shiro, you don't have to—"   

"No, I've made my decision." Shiro straightened up, arms crossed. "Pidge, set a beacon on the green lion and send it back. You can find your brother if you want, but you'll do it without our help."

Pidge was silent a moment, then she nodded. "I understand. I'll find a place to leave the lion when I get to the Helicon system."

"No, touch down wherever is closest. You're not taking that lion—"

"Shiro!" Keith lunged the last distance, catching Shiro by the arm. "You can't do this. She's a paladin."

"Not anymore." Shiro barely budged, his gaze fixed on Pidge's image. "You should be at the Eridani system shortly. Coran, is there an inhabited planet in that system?"

"Uh…" Coran brought up a map, scanning through it while Pidge glared down at Shiro. "Mizar, the second planet from the Eridani sun."

"Shiro, please," Keith said. "If Pidge says she has a good lead, then she does. There's no reason to throw her off the team!"

"If she's going to put her own loyalties above the team's, then she has no right to consider herself part of this team." Shiro turned his implacable gaze on Keith, waiting, until Keith let go of Shiro's arm. "Coran, set a course for the Eridani system."

"You can't _do_ this," Keith said. " _Don't_ do this—"

Shiro exhaled, slowly. "I have to, Keith. I know you have a lot to learn, but being a leader means sometimes you have to set aside the need to be liked."

Stung, Keith shook his head. "But we don't have to—"

"Choose your priorities, Keith. Are you on this team, or not?"

Keith pulled back, too stunned to find words for a breath. "I—I am."

"Then you're willing to accept what Pidge won't." Shiro nodded to Coran. "Send a message to Allura to meet us in high orbit around Mizar."

Pidge looked away, blinking, then her face settled into hard lines. "Fine. Mizar." She leaned forward, probably to close the channel. In the last moment, she looked up, her eyes widening at something in her view screens. " _Lotor_."

The image blinked out, and Coran tapped quickly on his control panel. "She went to stealth again."

"Lotor's found her?" Keith went around Shiro to stand by Coran's other shoulder. "Did you get a bearing on her signal?"

"Looks like... two-seven-seven, on three-five-three and six-nine-nine-oh-seven." Coran threw a Shiro an anxious look.

"Send those coordinates to the Black lion," Keith ordered, heading for the Black paladin's seat. "I'm going after her."

"No, you're not," Shiro snapped. "You're staying here."

"She's out there with no backup—" Keith stepped onto the platform. "I'm not leaving her out there to face Lotor alone."

"We're not her backup, anymore. She _left the team_ , Keith. Her choice."

Coran made a nervous sound, and ducked his head when Shiro shot him an angry look.

"It wasn't a choice she had to make," Keith yelled, as another thought popped into his head. "At the very least, we can't let Lotor get the green lion—"

"What's he going to do with it? The lion will put up an unbreakable shield, and what are the chances Lotor has an amenable pilot in his limited ranks? Even if he captures the Green lion, we'll get it back."

"But if Lotor's there, this is our chance to strike. We finally know where he is, but Pidge can't do that alone—"

"Lotor isn't our main objective." Shiro turned his back on Keith. "It's time you remember that we're at war. Sometimes that means we have to make hard choices."     

"No!" Keith stepped onto the platform. "This is _my_ team, and I refuse to accept that."

"Keith!" Shiro turned, as the platform dropped. "Coran, lock down that hangar."

The platform closed over Keith's head, shutting out Shiro's orders. Keith wrapped his arms around himself until the shaking stopped. At the lower level, he didn't bother changing. He simply grabbed his armor and the helmet, and kept going. He'd change in Black, but he had to get to the lion and get out of the hangar before Coran could finish the lockdown protocols.

And if he had to, he'd blast his way out. He'd spent months refusing to leave Shiro behind. He wasn't going to leave Pidge behind, either.

 

 

 

Lance leaned against the side console, while Allura fidgeted, then checked the readout for the eighth time.

"It's only been like, fifteen doboshes," Lance said. "They won't be here for another two vargas."

"I know." Allura scrunched down in the seat. "I still think we should head back and meet the castle halfway."

"Shiro wants us to wait here."

She exhaled noisily. "It's just… so frustrating, sitting here doing nothing."

Lance agreed with her, but his mind was busy chewing on the oddity. He'd just been sitting there, adrift, feet up and waiting. And in the space of maybe a minute, a Galra destroyer, then Pidge, and next thing he knew, he was floating in open space clinging to what remained of the main control panel.

A periphery alert pinged on the main panel, and Allura sat up. "Coran must've done a jump with the residual—"

Space stretched, elongated, and compressed again. Lance came to his feet as Allura gasped. A Galra battlecruiser bore down on them, ion cannon charging.  

 


	6. Chapter 6

Lance held onto the seat as Allura pulled Blue around and gunned it in the opposite direction.

"Calling the castle now," Lance told her, and opened a channel. "Coran, can you—"

A cannon blast hit Blue, sending her spinning sideways. Allura didn't even flinch. She just went with the new direction, pushing the throttle forward. "Come on, Blue, you can go faster, you did before—"

"Lance?" Coran appeared on the view screen. "What's going on?"

"We've got a battle cruiser on our tail is what's going on," Lance yelled. Another shot went past, too close. Lance braced himself between the seat and the console and hung on. "How soon can you get here?"

"Maybe a varga at our best speed," Coran said.

"Then step on it, 'cause these guys aren't waiting around!" Lance winced when a third shot swept over Blue's head.

"They're not sending out the droid-jets," Allura reported.

"Princess?" Coran asked.

"Not now, Coran," Lance said, "we're a little busy! Wait—battlecruisers don't usually crowd like this. And they're not trying to capture us, either."

"If they did, at least we'd have room to—" Allura grunted, throwing the lion into a barrel roll.

Lance took a breath and counted. He'd reached five when another shot streamed past on the left-hand screens. "Allura, when I give the signal, bring Blue up into a backwards roll, and ready the ice cannon. I want to try something." Another shot, this time close enough to force the lion sideways to evade.

"Do what?" Allura spared a glance over her shoulder, then bent forward. In the view-screens, her reflection showed a strangely wicked smile. "Okay, Blue, you heard the man. Get ready."

"On my mark…" Lance counted… "Now!"

Allura yanked back on the sticks, grunting as she kicked out. Blue arced upwards, and the next ion shot missed her by a claw. The screens showed endless space, as the lion curved around backwards, and the battle cruiser appeared. They faced the ion cannon dead-on.

"Fire!" Lance yelled.

Allura twisted her left wrist and slammed the stick forward. Ice coated the ion cannon. She eased back, but Lance caught her hand and shoved it forward again. Blue purred, and ice encased the entire ion structure.

He managed to get out— "lasers!" —but Allura needed no prompting. She laughed softly and pulled back. Blue's ice shifted instantly to plasma, and one shot shattered the cruiser's cannon. Between their speed and the cannon, though, they were almost on top of the cruiser.

"Pull up, pull up," Lance yelled, and Allura cranked her right hand forward as far as she could reach. Blue twisted around, claws scraping across the carrier's command platform. Blue ran along the carrier's top deck for two paces, then leapt off, rear thrusters firing.

Lance caught hold of the seat in time, swaying as the lion gained speed.

"Now we're headed in the wrong direction," Allura said, checking the readouts.

"No, keep going. The battlecruisers are fast, but they're the opposite of nimble." Lance was literally shaking with relief, and he had to laugh. "I can't believe we pulled that off."

"That was…" Allura looked like she wanted to be upset, or stern, but then she grinned, too. "We actually did that!"

"We? You did that. You're amazing." Lance leaned over to pat the console. "You, too, Blue."

"She's happy." Allura gave him a shy smile. "She's purring."

Lance wanted to be pleased, but it just made his chest ache. He put on a smile, anyway. "Good to know I haven't lost my touch completely."

"Coran?" Allura opened the hail. "We got away from the battle cruiser, and—"

Space warped with bleeding red energy lines. A second battle cruiser appeared, directly ahead.

Lance groaned. "Oh, quiznak."   

 

 

 

Shiro leaned against the bulkhead, wishing he could haul off and punch the walls, instead. He'd managed to evade the castle's security eyes and motion detectors, but he was pretty sure a solid thump to the wall would alert something in the castle systems. The corridor control panel played sound from the bridge. Hunk's voice, subdued, then Coran's. A conversation too quiet to catch, but Shiro covered his ears and curled in on himself. He didn't want to hear another word, not until he could catch his breath.

His own voice, so quick to belittle Pidge's purpose, and her loyalty.

His own voice, reprimanding Keith for acting exactly how a good leader would.

The worst was knowing he _could_ say those words. He'd been raised with that commanding tone, that apathy for human ties. He'd never let himself take that road, but it didn't change that he knew he could. There was nothing he'd overheard that he could honestly say wasn't in him.

No shower could ever remove that shame.

A sudden, distant blast sent soft shudders through the castle, and Shiro had to take a deep breath. Keith had just blown through the lockdown on the hangar. Shiro imagined he could feel the miles stretching between them, thinner than a strand of silk. That tie would break, eventually, if Shiro let it—or if he let that other Shiro cut it.

As far as Shiro could figure, he had floated in the depths of space—or in the depths of Black's internal plane—for maybe six months, or more. How naive he'd been, to think that Zarkon's defeat would end everything. Something about a son… Shiro leaned his head back, thinking.

Lotor. No wonder Pidge had sounded startled. Shiro was pleased, at least, that Keith hadn't hesitated to go to her aid. _That_ was a leader, not the other-him who threw Pidge aside so easily.

A beeping sound, a hail on the castle's frequency. Shiro kept the volume low, his ear almost to the tiny speaker. Lance and Allura, reporting in. Shiro leaned his head against the chilly wall, forcing himself to slow down. Listen. Breathe. _Think._

A Galra destroyer, then a cruiser, and now a second one. Once was a surprise. Three times? Intentional.

Tracking the castle, or the lions, was out of the question. That required a bond, and Lance was—no, Allura was piloting Blue. So Blue had gained a second pilot for some reason, and somehow the Galra had figured out how to hone in on them.

Or someone had let the Galra know where to find them.

Shiro frowned and opened the screens, flipping through the various security angles, scrolling down to the hangars. Yellow sat in its hangar, asleep. Blue was gone, as was Green, and…

Black was gone.

Shiro couldn't help the smile. Keith had taken over, as Shiro had wanted. But then… who was flying Red? Voices from the bridge filtered back into his awareness.

"There's that warning again," Coran said.

"Is it something listening on the system?" Hunk's voice.

"Yes. I blocked it before, and now it's come back."

The other-Shiro, suspicious. "Do a search—"

"No need," Hunk said. "It's the box I built for Pidge. She wanted me to hook it up while it went through a testing stage. It probably reconnected after you disconnected."

"Pidge is not on the team," Shiro said. "I'm not sure I like letting her programming continue to impact the ship."

"Yeah, uh." Hunk's sigh was palpable, if not audible. "It might be useful. It's only supposed to respond to Lance's voice, anyway. If it works, I might be able to adapt the idea for something else."

"Very well," the other-Shiro said. "Right now, our only priority is Lance and Allura."

"With the distance they've put between us, we're still a varga behind," Coran said.

"Can we boost the systems?" Hunk asked. "Like, divert all power to the boosters?"

Shiro frowned. Why wasn't the other-Shiro suggesting that? Shiro would've been either yelling at Allura and Lance to head towards them, or doing everything he could to catch up with them. A single lion could hold off a battle cruiser, but to truly damage it, they'd need the castle.

"Boosters still have a limit," Coran said. "We've never needed to go past that. We had Allura, and we simply jumped—"

"Well, she's out there," Shiro replied, "and we're here."

"The teludav is a focus..." Hunk's voice trailed off, and his muttering was too low to be caught by the listening security.

Shiro grinned. Hunk's best ideas had all been born of necessity. If anyone could figure out a way to move the castle faster—or wormhole even without Allura—then it'd be Hunk. On the other hand, no one had said a word about going after Keith.

For some reason, the other-Shiro seemed remarkably unperturbed about the fact that three of the lions were now scattered across the quadrant. And even more, the castle itself was reduced to half its strength without Allura's power driving it forward.

None of it explained where the other-Shiro had come from, though it was clear however he'd arrived, the team had believed him to be Shiro. If, in the meantime, Keith had taken up Black in Shiro's place, had the other-Shiro then stepped into Red? Was that even possible?

Shiro shut down the screens, but left the com open. Let them think it some curious invention Pidge and Hunk had created. Shiro checked the corridor, and lowered himself back into the castle venting line. He braced himself and pulled the cover shut behind him, dug his fingers into the seams between the metal sheathing, and began to climb.

 

 

 

Pidge watched Lotor's ship, hanging in space, slowly turning. She was definitely on their radar—literally—even if they couldn't see her. She needed something to hide behind, something to defuse the signal. A million miles of open space in this section of the quadrant. Just her luck.

She struggled to stay calm. She couldn't, with Shiro's words echoing in her head. Pidge choked back sobs. Her vision was blurry with tears, and she released her visor to wipe her eyes.

Lotor's ship swung in another circle. It hadn't sent out any drone-fighters, and it wasn't even making any threatening moves. If she read its energy levels right, it wasn't even powering up to shoot. Pidge took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and studied the destroyer. 

What else did she have to lose, anyway? She'd already lost almost everything that mattered, and she didn't even yet have Matt to show for the effort. Pidge shut down visuals, and sent a hailing beam. A moment passed, then two. A click, and the line was open, with visual on the other end.

A woman—Galra, but not entirely, as far as Pidge could tell.

"Identify yourself," the woman said.

Pidge flipped the thumb-switch and Green's cannon sizzled into place, energy charging, and the green lion edged forward. Pidge let the cloak fall away, revealing Green prowling back and forth at the nose of Lotor's destroyer. Green's tail whipped, a tense movement. Pidge knew the cannon was twisting, always focused on Lotor's ship.

"That should be all the identification you need," Pidge challenged. She hoped her voice didn't sound too scratchy from her swallowed tears. She reached under the main console and drew the keyboard into her lap. Three terminal windows popped up.

"Ah," said a male voice. Lotor. Pidge knew that voice from when he'd blown open their frequencies to announce himself.

The woman shifted to the side, revealing someone sitting behind her. Tall, lean, wearing a similar grey-blue-orange Galra-style uniform, but with long white hair.

"You're a long way from just about everything." Lotor leaned forward, one elbow propped up on the arm of his seat. He looked far too comfortable, and his tone held obvious amusement.

"I'm awfully close to you, though." Pidge wiped her eyes again, and went back to typing. The signal frequency was perfectly clear, but that didn't mean she couldn't introduce some noise.

"True, but have we made any hostile moves?"

Pidge had no answer to that, but she pulled Green back a little. The cannon remained in a ready state. Her first script was done. Second would be the carrier. She could test it, and risk them catching on. Better to fire it all at once, and trust what pathetic luck she had left.

"I'm just curious what you're doing in this quadrant," Lotor said. "Have you come alone to attack the planets that joined me?"

She didn't like his tone, but at the same time, it didn't feel like he mocked her. It was more like… genuine curiosity. He wanted to know what she'd do. Pidge hesitated for a heartbeat, her fingers poised above the keys.

"I have business of my own to attend to," she said, in her best Allura voice. "And it's no business of yours." She hit a key, and entered the final command.

The image fuzzed, cleared, and fuzzed again. The woman in the foreground said something, but the static was too loud. Pidge shoved the keyboard away, let the cannon fade, and fired up the cloaking mechanism. A kick of her feet and Green twisted away, thrusters flaring behind her.

 

 

 

It broke Hunk's heart to think of Pidge out there, alone, abandoned, but at least Keith was going after her. That would buy time for Hunk to figure out the right words to get Shiro to accept Pidge back. Or maybe he wouldn't have to. Shiro had shown flashes of a temper, but he'd always calmed once the danger was past.

Hunk took a deep breath and focused on the task before him. Boost the castle's thrusters, or better still, figure out a way to boost a human enough to use the teludav. The general principle was pretty simple, on a theoretical level: generate some level of quintessence, and channel it to the teludav, which focused it into the wormhole generator.

If he couldn't make a human magically able to generate an equal amount of quintessence, he was fairly certain all living things still had some amount. Maybe it was like basic mechanics, like a jet fighter. Super-boosted fuel provided enough thrust, but used efficiently, even moderate fuel could get a plane off the ground.

That might mean a smaller, shorter wormhole. He could work with that, as long as it was big enough to fit the castle through, and get them a short hop away. Hunk glanced over his shoulder at Shiro, standing behind Coran, but turned away from the screens. Shiro's metal fingers tapped on his human arm, a repeating pattern of uneasiness.

Hunk cheered up, a little. Shiro was rethinking, and he'd always come out of those moments with a good plan and a better mood. First place to start would be the magnifying beam generator. If he could figure out how to triple its output, then he'd work backwards from there.

And hopefully by then, everyone would be back, and safe.      

 

 

 

"It's all down," Acxa said, dumbfounded at the error messages scrolling up her station.

"What did that child do?" Lotor had recovered his composure, but his voice retained a subtle note of admiration.

Acxa could count on one hand the times anyone got the jump on Lotor, and certainly never at such close quarters. What puzzled Acxa was that the child—because that was clearly a child, and a frightened one—hadn't taken the advantage. She'd only done enough damage to get away. Although, given the errors duplicating themselves throughout the ship's systems, the child had been taking no chances on how much damage would be required.

"Guidance systems are fried," Ezor said. "And long-range scanners." Narti signaled, and Ezor sighed. "Short-range, too."

"We still have visuals," Acxa said. "But that's about it."

Kova jumped up onto the console, weaving between Acxa's arms. She set him on her shoulder to get him out of the way.

"How long will it take to fix?" Lotor asked.

Narti signaled her estimate, and Kova leapt down from Acxa's shoulders to rub at Narti's ankles.

"Take care of it," Lotor told Narti. "Acxa, have we lost hyperdrive, too?"

Acxa finished the systems check. "No, it's fine."

"Set a course for the Eridani system, and this time, keep us a good, safe distance from that kitten's claws." Lotor sat back, making room for Kova on his lap. "Yes, yes, of course," Lotor said, stroking the cat gently.

 

 

 

Allura panted, slumped over the controls. Lance was probably standing only because he held onto her seat. They hadn't made any progress towards the castle. Every time they tried, a Galra cruiser would arrive.

They'd disabled one, somehow destroyed the second, disabled the third, and evaded the fourth until the fifth had appeared, and tricked those two into running into each other. The first had stayed put, but the third was on their tail and gaining fast.

"Hey, Lance—" Allura looked up, and groaned. "Not another one!"

"What the quiznak is going on," Lance said. "Okay—let's—" He scrubbed at his head. "I guess the move we used on the second one?"

"Was that the backflip, or the side-swipe?" Allura put the lion into a nose dive, barely evading the ion cannon's first strike. Either she was getting tired, or Blue was getting less agile. "I can't keep this up forever. We need to do something!"

"Too bad we can't wormhole," Lance said. "Just jump away from them."

"We could if we could just get to the castle." Allura grunted, and wished Blue would let Lance take over. She just wanted long enough to catch her breath, but the Galra weren't giving her the chance.

"How do you wormhole?" Lance sounded thoughtful. "Do you have to use the teludav?"

"Really? We're fighting for our lives and you want a school lecture on Altean technology?"

Lance yelped as Allura dove close to the ship, scraping along the hull with Blue's claws. There was a juncture along the side, where a solid puncture would destroy the cruiser's stabilizers. She flexed Blue's claws, dug in, and jumped off, tearing off a stretch of the hull. Explosions pummeled the lion, but it wasn't enough to stall the cruiser.

"I'm just saying, if the teludav's just there to focus energy, what else could focus that?"

Allura slammed her hand forward, but she knew she had half the speed she'd had when she set out. Blue roared when the ion cannon singed one of its forelegs. Allura muttered encouragements under her breath.  

"I can't even try when I'm busy piloting," Allura snapped.

"Fine." Lance took a deep breath. "Hey, Blue, mind if I drive for a bit? We want to try something."

Blue purred, and Lance almost yelped. "She's talking to me?"

"I'd call that a yes, then." Allura yanked the sticks back, twisted, and kicked to fire the side thrusters. The cannon's blast tore past them, right into the flank of the destroyer who'd been coming up on their six. "How are we going to do this?"

Lance closed his eyes, took a breath, and said, "Okay, don't freak out, but I'm going to slide in behind you."

"You'll what?"

"It's like you're sitting in the chair, just, higher. Once I get my feet in, I'll catch the sticks when you pull back, and then you can get free. Don't worry, my brother and sister used to do this all the time, when they wanted to switch drivers but couldn't be bothered to pull over."

Allura didn't have time or energy for a better idea, and Lance seemed pretty certain. "Alright, ready when you are."

Lance slid a hand behind Allura's back, around to her waist. "Hope you're not ticklish," he muttered, and on the count of three, he shoved her forward and hopped into the seat behind her. His long legs stretched out on either side of hers.

Next thing Allura knew, he'd lifted her straight up and down again, and his legs were beneath hers. It pulled her feet right off the pedals. "Lance, feet," she cried.

Lance got his feet in place, with a quiet huff. "Tell me what to do, 'cause I can't see a thing."

"Left foot, hard!" Without her feet extended, Allura could get her feet under her, shifting her weight off Lance. "Right foot, down—we're coming around—" She yanked backwards on both sticks, and Lance caught each. For a moment they were suspended, both feeling Blue purr, then Allura pivoted up on one foot, off, around, and out of the way.

She caught her hip on the console, hand over her mouth to muffle the cry.

"Allura?" Lance glanced over, barely looking as he threw the lion into a spin. No, the barely-looking was his firing. His thumb hit the firing button, and Blue's rapid tail-shots slammed into the Galra cruiser. Each shot hit true, and did damage.

"I'm fine, just got the hard edge, there." Allura straightened up, and it was her turn to brace herself between the seat and the console.

Make a wormhole without a teludav? Well, she'd heard of crazier things, she was sure, though she couldn't think of any right then. Lance twisted Blue around, his movements quick, efficient, as fluid as the lion herself. Allura got herself directly behind Lance, hands on the seat back.

No, she needed more of a focus. If the idea was the lion was the teludav, then she needed something to channel the energy. Allura took a breath and slid her hands down to Lance's shoulders.

"Allura?" Lance sounded puzzled, but not upset.

"Just breathe," Allura said, and whispered a small prayer to her parents' memory that she wasn't about jolt Lance with an excess of quintessence his human body couldn't handle. "I'm going to use you as the channel, so don't fight it. Let it go."

"Hold on, gimme a sec—" Lance brought the lion up, around, and Blue's sonar disruptor cannon formed. "Alright, Blue, close range, full power!" He shoved his right hand down and forward, and yanked back with his left.

Blue hung, momentarily, and the Galra ship quivered in the view screens.

"Come on, come on," Lance whispered.

The Galra battle cruiser began shaking apart, pieces flying off. One came tearing towards Blue, who ducked and evaded, but it was enough to misdirect the sonar's beam. Allura kept her hands on Lance's shoulders, gathering her remaining strength.

"Alright—" Lance inhaled long and hard, then exhaled through his nose. "Do it, Allura!"

Just like on the castle, Allura took her gathered strength and shoved it through her hands, downwards through the channel, into the focus. Lance made no sound, but his breathing remained steady, even as a golden glow surrounded his body. It flowed from Allura, through him, and with each exhale from Lance, it felt like he was pushing that energy along. He simply rode it.

The energy flowed into Blue. The lion thrashed once, grew still, then raised her head and roared. A single beam flowed from her jaws, but Lance hadn't moved. His fingers were almost lax on the controls.

And directly ahead, in the narrow space between the last two Galra ships, a wormhole formed.

"Go, now," Allura cried, pushing the last bit of her energy into the lion.

Lance growled, slammed the sticks forward, and Blue leapt into the breach. The wormhole entrance closed behind them, and the tunnel carved through space swirled around them. Lance cranked the thrusters up, leaning so far forward Allura almost lost touch with him. Just when only her fingertips had contact, Lance jerked himself backwards, letting her grip him again, and the wormhole exit opened.    

They were through. Nothing but open space around them, endless, except for a blue-white circle in the far distance. Allura swayed, catching hold of the seat-back as her legs gave out. Lance yelled her name, twisting in his seat and leaping upwards, as Allura went down.

She landed half on top of Lance, her head cushioned by his hand. He bent over her, grinning, then leaned his head back and crowed. "You did it!"

Allura was too exhausted to laugh. Mostly her chest just heaved, but she smiled. "Not just me. We did it."

"And Blue," Lance said, and to Allura's surprise, he threw his arms around her, a quick hug. "That was the most amazing thing. By the way, is my hair standing on end? It feels like it should be." He patted his head.

"No, and you're not glowing anymore, either." She struggled to sit up, and considered laying back down. "I'll be fine in a dobosh."

"Here, lean against that. I'm going to run a scan, see if we got followed."

Lance didn't just tap on the console. He talked under his breath to Blue, and Allura smiled at Lance's obvious pleasure. She had no idea what this meant for Red, or being paladin, but there was no denying the connection between Blue and Lance.

"No one anywhere in range that I can see," Lance reported. "And according to the coordinates, that planet ahead is an uninhabited planet called… Nalquod." He focused the screen, zooming in. "Hunh. Why do I know that name?"

"Oh, no." An exhausted laugh bubbled in Allura's chest. She'd known it'd be risky, but she'd figured any jump she could manage would be minor. "We're two quadrants away."

"That far?" Lance looked over his shoulder, astonished. "How did we manage that?"

"I don't think we did. I think Blue did." Allura pointed at the planet now filling the view-screens. "That's Blue's first home. She brought us home."


	7. Chapter 7

Keith struggled to swallow his complaints, because Black would never move as fast as he wanted. Lance had warned against insisting Black fly like Red. Better to appreciate Black for what it could do.

After one varga, then another, Keith realized how Black truly differed from Red: Black would never stop. Where Red would exhaust itself in a burst of speed, Black paced itself.

Black was focused, because Black had patience.

Eventually Keith had to acknowledge the blinking light on the console. It had been taunting him since he'd lost sight of the Castle in the far distance. Autopilot. With a snort, Keith accepted Black's patient question.

He hooked his heels on the edge of his seat, and wrapped his arms around his shins. There was nothing to do but watch the scan run, seeking Pidge's signature. He still had a varga to go, possibly.

He ignored the calls from the castle. He didn't understand why Shiro would do that to Pidge, and he wasn't sure he wanted to. If that was being a leader, no wonder Keith was no good at it. When it came right down to it, he couldn't make those hard decisions.

But now he had to face the possibility that he, too, was no longer on the team.

 

 

 

Kolivan stood before the star map, arms crossed, contemplative. He didn't bother to turn around at the soft whoosh of the doors opening. He knew the footsteps. First Obaz' heavy tread, then Nizak's light steps, and finally the steady step of his eldest child.

"Sir." Lokti let her mask retract, revealing high cheekbones and strong nose, so much like her mother. "I have news from our informants in the scientific sector."

"It must be something, if you came personally." Not that he minded. Perhaps this time she'd be able to stay long enough for a meal. Pictures of his first grandchild weren't nearly as satisfying as hearing first-hand.

"I'm not sure, but it's…" Lokti tapped her wrist, sending the images to the screen. "We managed to get these images."

Kolivan knew that setup in the Galra battlecruisers' medical halls; it was much like the few images Ulaz had ever sent. What he didn't expect was the figure laying on the gurney, strapped down for surgery, eyes open and vacant. Shiro.

"When were these pictures taken?" Nizak asked.

"Perhaps ten, fifteen quintants," Lokti said. "Long after the Voltron leader had returned."

"Do the informants know the experiments?" Kolivan studied the image, unsettled. "Or the purpose?"

"They think cloning, possibly. The Voltron leader was held by the Galra before, right?"

"If the empire could clone a paladin," Nizak said, "could that clone fly a lion?"

"It's a machine like any other," Obaz said. "Why would they need a clone at all, then? Any pilot would do."

"The lions aren't simply machines." Kolivan frowned. "There's something sentient about them."

"So, infiltration."

Lokti came to stand by Kolivan; it surprised him again that she was almost his equal in height. There had been too many years of separation. She'd gone from barely reaching his waist, and then one day appearing for the trials already a young woman.  

"Get in, attack Shiro, and replace him?" Obaz rubbed his fingers together. "We should alert the paladins of the possibility."

Kolivan closed the image. "Nizak, send an encrypted message to the princess. Given that kit's attachments, he might not take it well. Best to have the princess convey the information on our behalf."

"Understood." Nizak dipped his head, and slid from the room to arrange the deep-space transmission.

Kolivan didn't look Lokti's way, but his question was only for her. "How long can you stay?"

"Maybe two vargas, at most." Lokti made a face. "I agreed to do another rendezvous in the Algedi system. Something's going on, and they can't do transmissions."

Kolivan brought the star map back up. "That's the system over from Lotor's latest acquisition. Is he moving onto Algedi, next?"

"I've seen no signs," Lokti said.

Behind her, Obaz spread his hands. He didn't know, either.

Kolivan sighed. "I suppose if they require face-to-face, at least I know we're sending our best." He allowed a slight smile when Lokti couldn't hide the roll of her eyes. "Two vargas, then. Obaz, we'll be taking dinner in my quarters."

" _Father_ ," Lokti muttered.

"Daughter." Kolivan held out a hand, motioning her onward. "How is your mother?"

"I got her into hiding, along with my brothers." Lokti didn't move. "She misses you. She's not happy about the price on her head thanks to your actions, but she says she'd rather be with you and wanted, than without you and wanted by the Empire."

Kolivan dropped his hand. "She knows nothing. The Empire would've left her alone." He had no illusions about himself; he'd married Tahti half in love, and half in hope her noble status would open doors to the imperial archives. She hadn't held that mercenary purpose against him, at least until he'd grown disenchanted with Zarkon's endless tyranny.  

"I wasn't going to let anyone use her against you. Or me." Lokti planted her feet, arms crossed. 

That wasn't her mother's expression anymore. It was like looking into a younger version of himself. He stopped, giving her his full attention. "She's safe? With your brothers?"

"For now." Lokti's shoulders slumped. Not for long, then.

"Very well. I'll dispatch four Blades to retrieve her, take her somewhere safer." Kolivan frowned when Lokti opened her mouth. "Don't ask me to go. I have greater obligations, now. But I do promise that once our family is out of the empire's sight, I will pay a visit myself." 

"She'd forgive you for leaving. She told me so."

"You're not her parent, nor her messenger." Kolivan set a hand on Lokti's shoulder. "It's not your duty to mend our differences."

Lokti sighed, dropping her head.   

"In the meantime," Kolivan said, lighter. "You must have other news for me, I hope."

"More than just news. I've also brought a name-day gift. Tahimik made it for you, in school."

"Another pottery cup?" At the rate Tahimik was going, his ceramics collection would one day be as large as the Blade's historical archives.

"It's _supposed_ to be a surprise, Father." Lokti's smile was wan, but she followed him into his quarters.

 

 

 

Pidge crossed her legs, resting her chin on her fist. "I told Shiro we'd stop in the Eridani system. But if we do that, how am I going to get from Mizar to the Helicon system?"

Green purred, somewhere between comfort and a question.

"I don't know, girl. I agreed to leave you there, but I know I'm close. I've been looking for so long…"

Green gave no warning, simply adjusted their direction. The Eridani system swung out of view on the main screen, and a new system slid into place as Green settled into the new course. The Helicon system. Green put on a burst of speed, almost jolting Pidge back in the seat.

Pidge gave a little shrug. "Well, I guess we'll figure it out once we get to planet Itehe."

 

 

 

When Shiro figured he was a deck below the bridge, he slipped out of the vent. It was slow going to the nearest control panel, watching for the quick glare of the laser that meant a castle security eye was pointed directly at him.

The bridge was silent; the teludav area quiet but for Hunk's mutterings, and some metallic clanging. Shiro switched back to listen to the bridge, his mind continuing to churn.

"Encrypted message from Kolivan," Coran said. "Addressed to Allura… but it's not marked personal."

"Open it." The other-Shiro.

Silence. A text transmission, then. Shiro doubted he'd be able to open a view to the bridge's console without alerting Coran.

"Oh, no," Coran whispered, barely loud enough for the bridge's security to pick up. "We were right. It _was_ a Galra clone."

"I thought that was a fever dream," other-Shiro said, shock apparent. "When I escaped. I stopped in the corridor, and that image is what I saw. I thought I'd hallucinated it. Something that looked like me. Like I _used_ to look. As if I hadn't changed in all those months."

Shiro clapped a hand over his mouth to stifle the shock. A clone—there were more? His hand ran up to his hair, scruffing at the short hairs, then down to his jaw, as clean as if he'd shaved that morning. _As if he hadn't changed_. He'd been gone for months, unaware, drifting in Black's depths. Unchanged.

No. He wasn't a clone. He had no inclination to remember his father's face, but he could. His grandmother, teaching him proper etiquette. Smatterings of Japanese, long unused. Iverson, Roy, Claudia, Saturdays over the barbecue. His flight team, the arrogant, lively lot of them. Dr Holt, Matt Holt, both brilliant enough to leave Shiro in awe. Keith at their first meeting, sullen and recalcitrant.

Shiro lowered his human hand, raising his Galra arm. He clenched his fist, turned it over, stared at the back, opened his fingers, curled them.

Humans had no technology for embedding foreign objects in human flesh, but the Galra did. It was beyond human understanding to record a person's thoughts, experiences, emotions, through that foreign object, but Ulaz had stored information in Shiro's arm for almost a year. Who was to say that it couldn't capture everything else, including the entirety of his conscious mind?

He still recalled so little of his year in Galra captivity. Was that another sign of the Galra meddling with his memory, or simply a gap in the process of creating him? Were there other years he couldn't remember?

If he _was_ the clone, how would he know?   

"Good thing Hunk ejected it," Coran said. "I'll let Kolivan know."

"Wait," other-Shiro said. "Does the ejected pod have a tracker?"

"Yes, but it's been two days. I'm not sure the clone would still be alive." Coran was quiet for a moment. "Sending a ping. Those aren't cryopods, mind you. Certainly they'd protect an Altean from interstellar radiation, but I've no idea if the same would be true for a human… Ah, found it."

"How far has it travelled?"

"We could reach it in perhaps fifteen doboshes."

"Any life signs?"

"If there are any, it's too faint for our sensors to register."

"Bring the castle around, and let's fetch it." Other-Shiro's tone was dull. "The least we can do is retrieve it. The Blade might have the technology for assessing any programming."

"If they sent one, they might send another," Coran murmured. "Or worse, send one to our allies, and confuse them."

Shiro filed away Coran's intuition for later thought. It might be possible to take other-Shiro, if it were only the two of them. Hunk, he might be able to stop simply by appealing to Hunk's heart, but the real question was Coran. The man did his best to appear light-hearted, even silly, but there had been a few times Coran had moved too sharply, reacted a little too quickly. There was a great deal more training—possibly of a lethal nature—hiding behind Coran's smile.

Shiro wasn't willing to bet everything on being able to take down Coran, not when he'd also have to deal with the other-Shiro. The odds didn't look good.

Allura, Lance, Pidge, and Keith were scattered across the quadrant. Who could he turn to? Even then, how could he be certain, if he couldn't even convince himself? Once they discovered the pod was empty, they'd know he was still in the castle. He could steal a shuttle, but those had low armaments, and the castle would be able to pull him back or just shoot him down. Hide? The castle was huge, and he'd hidden already for hours.

What he _needed_ was a plan.

 

 

 

Axca studied the console readout. "Narti, take us forward another thirty degrees, and do a scan. I'm not seeing any signs of the Green lion." It might be evading them in the planet's shadow. Perhaps she should send out drones for a relay scan, instead.

"If the kitty's out there, she's not talking to anyone." Ezor held the headset to her ear, head cocked as she ran through the frequencies. "Just a lot of usual planet-side chatter. People talk too much."

Narti finished the scan, throwing the results into the overlay on the main screen.

"Nothing," Lotor said, thoughtful. "Perhaps the lion decided to take another route?"

"It was simply a guess on our part," Axca admitted. "I was wrong to assume—"

"We have a kitty!" Ezor cried. "Listen to this." She hit a button. A young man's voice.

"Pidge, come in, where are you? Pidge? It's Keith, come in." Static broke in, cleared, broke in again. A momentary clarity, and the young man could be heard repeating his call.

"How do you know that's one of the pilots?" Axca gave Ezor a frustrated look. "It could be—"

"Because it's coming from _there_ —" Ezor tapped on her screens, expanding the visuals, zooming in on a particular spot. She zoomed in twice more, and the object was still quite small. Just large enough to make out the details. Ezor grinned. "And _that_ is a black kitty."      

"Should we approach?" Axca readied the ship's boosters.

"No, not yet. Just keep an eye on it." Lotor leaned back, finger tapping on his chin. "One lost green lion, and here's the Black lion come to its rescue. Interesting."

Axca exchanged a glance with Ezor, then Kova and Narti. If Zethrid were to call in now for help, none of them had any doubt Lotor would find a way to send her aid. If there were no other choice, he'd go himself; he'd do it for any of them, as they would for him, if he let them. Not that Axca ever intended to test it. She had more respect for Lotor than that.

Then again, she wasn't a child, either. A scared child alone in the darkness of interstellar space, piloting a massive weapon. Axca swallowed her irritation and moved the ship so it sat partly-hidden behind one of MIzar's asteroid-moons.

Narti signaled, suddenly, and furiously. Galra battleships signatures, incoming.

Lotor sat up straight. "Who's assigned to this system?"

"Commander Dormak," Axca reported. "Supported by two battalions. Sub-commanders Corun and Larak."

One Galra battlecruiser dropped out of hyperdrive, not far from the Black lion. Then a second, a third, a fourth. Axca glanced over her shoulder at Lotor, who stared at the inset image, enlarged as far as it would go.

"Six detected," Ezor reported. "Seven! Wait, eight—How many battlecruisers are required to take down one kitty, anyway?"

"It's the Black lion," Lotor said, absently. "No less than eight, if the pilot knows what he's doing."

That was an open question. Axca's fingers hovered over the console buttons. "Should we join them?" Dormak had been an ally of Throk's. Lotor might agree as part of his imperial duties, but he'd hardly agree out of sentimentality.

"I'm not inclined. How long until Zethrid returns?"    

Narti singled her estimated. Four vargas. Onscreen, the battleships released a stream of sentries, their red wingtip lights streaking across the black. Axca checked the official Galra frequencies.

"Sir, there's no chatter at all. They're keeping radio silence," she reported.

"This was planned," Lotor mused. "How would they know the Black lion would be here, all by itself?"

"Or were they expecting two kitties, and there's only one?" Ezor tilted her head at the view. The Black lion had engaged the sentries, smashing through them to fire on the nearest battlecruiser. "That's a lot of firepower against one lion."

"Ezor, take one of our sentries, and get on Dormak's flagship. I want to know how anything you can discover about how they knew the Black lion would be here."

Ezor saluted cheerfully, phasing out of view as she ran off. A few moments later, Ezor signaled she was in place. Axca released the gates, and a single Galra sentry fighter launched into space, heading for the battle.

Axca scanned the planet's upper orbit again. "Still no sign of the Green lion, and it looks like the battlecruisers are moving our way. Should we withdraw, before we're sighted?"

"I have no love for any of Throk's former allies," Lotor said.

"I could send out a controlled sentry," Axca suggested. "Programmed to keep its distance from the lion and the battlecruisers, but close enough to act as relay for the visuals."

Lotor gave her a brief, pleased smile. "Do that. I'd like to see whether that pilot has learned anything since last we met."

 

 

 

When Coran pinged from the bridge, Hunk sat up and promptly banged his head on the underside of the control panel. "Ow, ow, ow," he groaned, and backed out far enough to be sure he wouldn't repeat that move. "Coming, coming, hold your horses. What is it?"

"I have no horses to hold," Coran said, "but I can fetch Kalternecker if that would help."

"Kalternecker is a cow, not a horse." Hunk rubbed his head. "What's going on?"

"How soon can you test your modifications? Number four is in high orbit over Mizor, and he's taking heavy fire." Shiro said something in the background, and Coran cleared his throat. "Nine battlecruisers."

" _Nine?_ " Hunk shot to his feet, headache forgotten. "I think it's ready to try, but it's not boosted fully. It'd still need some amount of quintessence."

"My arm," Shiro said, from offscreen. "It's powered by quintessence."

"That'll do, then."

"I just got the last bit hooked up." Hunk put down his hand for the mice to slap as they exited the depths of the console. "I want to run one test to be sure."

"Do that, while we retrieve the pod. Ready in ten doboshes?"

What? Hunk tugged on his ear, instead. "Why retrieve the pod? If this works, we can come back for it. Nine battlecruisers! Keith will need our help." He'd need to get to the Yellow lion, too.

"If we can make one jump, we don't know we'll be able to make a second," Shiro replied. "Get it tested as best you can. We'll let you know when we've retrieved that pod."

"Uh, okay, sure." Hunk knelt back down, peering under the console, and beckoning the mice closer. "Okay, guys, there's one last thing I need to hook up. See that red wire in the back? Can you drag the end to me?"

 

 

 

Shiro knew it wasn't the best plan, but Keith's voice on the hailing frequency had been desperate. The only thing to do was slam the resets on the security system, shutting down all visuals. It might not keep Coran occupied for too long, but hopefully he was too busy juggling everything else to notice right away. Shiro entered the sequence and ran.

Maybe he was a clone. Maybe he'd been created in a lab, embedded with memories, and was nothing more than a meatsack full of someone else's emotions. There was one thing he did know for certain: no pod had information valuable enough to waste time on it, not while Keith was outnumbered and alone.

It was a risk, letting the other-Shiro stay, especially when Hunk sounded so close to finding a way to worm-tunnel the castle without Allura. That would put the castle in other-Shiro's hands. It wouldn't have bothered Shiro half as much if he didn't feel so strongly that other-Shiro didn't really give a damn about the team.

Fine, maybe he _was_ a clone. Nothing changed. He still had to respect the emotions in his heart, the memories in his head. The person he was—or the person he was meant to be—wasn't half as important as his team.

Shiro skidded around the corner, stretching his legs until his lungs were nearly bursting. It'd been a long time since he'd run loops around the track with Keith. Years, perhaps. He'd always had trouble keeping up when Keith sprinted, though he could beat Keith if they ran for distance.

Millions of light years, an infinite distance, stretched out between them.

There was only one bay left to try. Shiro pelted into Red's hangar, a little surprised the lion hadn't set up a barrier in its usual standoffish manner. He stopped at its feet, bent over, panting, then straightened up.

He raised his human hand, as if in greeting. The lion's eyes flashed at him, then it bent its head, wary.

"I know I'm not Keith, or whoever flies you now." Shiro kept his hand up, and Red slowly bent down, bringing the cool metal of its nose to press against Shiro's fingertips. "But I don't know who else to turn to, and Keith's in trouble."

The lion's eyes flashed again, but it neither pulled back nor roared. It waited.

Did it no longer love Keith, like it once had? So many times, it had flung itself into space after Keith, rescuing him over and over. Was Keith's acceptance of Black a rejection of Red?

"I can't just stay here, not when Keith needs me," Shiro said. "He needs my help. He needs _our_ help. Help me go to him. _Please._ "

Red's purr filled Shiro's head, almost knocking him off his feet. Red's mouth opened, wide enough for Shiro to sprint up the steps and into the cockpit.

Without a second thought, Shiro was over the chair arm and settled into place. He put his hands on the sticks and yanked Red around to face the long launchway. In the distance, the gates were closing.

"Get ready to fire," he warned Red. "Looks like we'll have to blow the doors."

Red leaned back and gave a roar that vibrated down to Shiro's bones. It leapt forward, running with a sure-footed gait. Shiro twisted the throttle and Red blasted forward. He shoved both sticks forward, stomping one pedal and planting his heel on the other, astonished when Red slipped sideways and slid between the gates with only inches to spare.

They were out, flying away from the castle at speeds that left Shiro breathless all over again. Red's periphery alarms beeped, and Shiro gave a small thanks to whomever might be listening that at least Red's systems were mostly the same as Black's. He sent Red into a rudder roll, unable to stop a quiet laugh at how quickly Red responded, how easily it evaded the castle's shots. If Black was grace of momentum and power, Red's grace was of a lightning bolt, arcing wildly.

Shiro slammed the sticks forward, and Red put on a burst of speed. The lion's purr was half-growl, and Shiro shook his head.

"I'm sorry, I know," he told it. "You and Keith are built for agility, not endurance. But please, this one time, hang in there. We've got a lot of distance to cover if we're going to make it in time."    


	8. Chapter 8

In light of S4, I'm discontinuing this story, and switching over a new story that can continue post-S4. Just putting this here since I promised some of you I'd let you know if I didn't continue. I'll be working some of these elements into the next story, never fear. The first chapter (well, more like a prologue) is already up.

And lastly: you're always welcome to [come by and say hello on tumblr!](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/sol1056)


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